Undying Love
by suicidalmime
Summary: In a jealous rage, Morgana, as Gwen's maker, forces Gwen to leave Arthur. Eighty years later, Gwen gets Morgana to release her and reunites with Arthur, but Morgana doesn't let things go so easily. Vampire AU
1. Mr Hopper

**Summary: **In a jealous rage, Morgana, as Gwen's maker, forces Gwen to leave Arthur. Eighty years later, Gwen gets Morgana to release her and reunites with Arthur, but Morgana doesn't let things go so easily. Vampire AU

**Author's Note: **For those of you who don't know, this is the multi-chapter version of the one-shot that's in my drabble/one-shot _Across the Universe_ coughcheckitoutcough. I twisted vampire lore to make it mine, but some things are borrowed from True Blood and Being Human and other shows/books. For those of you already familiar, slight changes have been made to ch. 1

**Warning: **Some ravers and a bunny meet a gruesome end. There will be blood. Lots of blood.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Merlin. When I Dream of You lyrics from Dancing On The Edge also appear which I obviously don't own.

Enjoy!(?)

**Undying Love**

**Chapter 1: **Mr. Hopper

Arthur contemplated early retirement as he drank his second coffee in the busy café. It was winter and people filed in to escape the cold. Christmas was right around the corner, and he always felt apathetic this time of year. His lunch break ended an hour ago, but he was head of the Authority, vampire king of the United Kingdom, and he thought he deserved the extra time, and frankly, he didn't want to go back outside.

He observed the patrons. He saw couples mooning over each other, friends crowding in booths, an aspiring novelist working on their manuscript. His eyes stopped on a teenage girl reading a book. He recognized the cover as a popular vampire novel. He loved reading tales about his kind, entertained by how close to or how far from the truth authors were.

Crosses had no effect, and garlic gave blood a weird aftertaste. An invitation was unfortunately necessary to enter a home, but then again, shouldn't everyone only enter if invited? Then there was the sun myth. It was harmful to anyone who stood in it for too long. And if he sparkled in the sun, he'd stake himself. Staking was absolutely true. It was the only way out of the contract of immortality, but he wouldn't turn into a pile of dust.

Vampires were very much like humans, but more alive. They were brought to the brink of death before being turned, given the blood of those blessed with immortality.

Blood. They needed it more for strength than actual survival. When Arthur and his sister were children, the original kings made a deal for a power that would help them rule and protect their kingdoms forever. In the days of war and conquering, an immortal army was worth any price. Blood would keep you strong, and control was vital. If you lost control, succumbing to bloodlust or have too large a population and deplete your resources, you'll live your immortal life frail and starving for energy until you drive a stake through your own heart.

One of the glorious things about being human is having choices. You can choose right or wrong, succumb or overcome, take life or give life.

Yes, vampires were very much like humans.

Human blood was the best, but Arthur hasn't fed on a human since _her_. Animal blood was substitute, but not as satisfying. The vampire a few tables over, on the other hand, fed on a human quite recently. The vampire raised his mug to Arthur.

A tall, lanky figure managed to block his view. "My mum told me I could be anything I wanted when I grew up," the lanky man said as he flopped into the seat across from Arthur. "I don't think she had assistant to an Old One in mind."

"You know I hate that name, Merlin." His father was one of the original kings. Arthur didn't need to be reminded he was old; he really started to feel it for the last eighty years.

"Well you _are." _Merlin pulled a file out of his bag. "Here are the reports, since it doesn't seem like you're coming back to the office anytime soon." Merlin was one of the few humans adopted into the vampire community, trusted to keep their secrets, and the only one to work in the Authority.

Arthur flipped through the papers. More bodies were turning up with clear vampire bites. Some rabid vampire or untrained baby vamp was endangering their secret. Arthur sighed. He really wasn't in the mood.

* * *

It was a bloodbath.

The bodies of ravers littered the floor of the warehouse. Neon fuzzy boots were matted with blood, and rainbow patterned clothing was turned solid red.

Gwen walked around the bodies, the click of her boot heels drowning in the puddles of blood.

"I found a live one!" Gwen saw a jittery vampire pounce, and the high pitched scream of a teenage boy was cut short to a gurgle as the vampire gnawed at his throat.

Gwen looked away in disgust. _Urgh, baby vamps._

A hand clutched her ankle, alerting Gwen and bringing her attention down to the girl lying on her back at her feet. She could almost feel the finger nails pierce through the leather.

Fishnet arm warmers were ripped at the wrist, blood still flowing out a sloppy bite wound. At her neck, the vampire was more aggressive.

"H-Hel-p m-m-m-e," the girl wheezed. She tried to pull herself up and reach for Gwen with her other hand. Two more bites were on that arm.

"Finish the job, _Guinevere!_" a sharp female voice barked out the order. Gwen didn't need to turn around to see Morgana standing at the DJ's booth, surveying the carnage with a victorious smile. She could feel Morgana's serpent green eyes burning holes in the back of her head. Gwen looked at the girl staring back at her in fear, eyeballs shaking in her skull. The girl tried to speak again and choked. She fell back with a soft _splat_ in a puddle of her own blood.

_Dead._

"What a waste." Gwen's ears picked up Morgana's muttering.

"I need air," Gwen said and looked over her shoulder up at Morgana in the booth silently asking, "_Is that okay with you_?" Morgana dismissed her with a wave of her hand.

Lifting her foot out of the now loose hold of the dead girl, Gwen made her way to the exit, trailing bloody footprints behind her. She passed the boy slain by the baby vamp; his neck was barely attached to his body. When she reached the exit, she found Morgause blocking the door. She smiled coolly at Gwen before opening it.

Once Gwen stepped out, the door was slammed shut behind her.

* * *

Arthur heard the door to his penthouse open. He was beginning to regret ever giving Merlin a key. Merlin found him in the kitchen, nursing a beer and an old black and white photograph next to it.

"I brought you a present!" Merlin declared as he pushed a small lunch bag cooler in front of him. Arthur found a few blood bags inside. "It's rabbit, fresh from Gauis' veterinary."

_You ate Mr. Hopper!_

"I don't drink rabbit blood." Arthur took a swig from the bottle.

Merlin stared blankly at him. "What am I supposed to do with this, then?"

Arthur sighed. "How about I turn you, and you can drink it."

He put the cooler in the refrigerator, missing the face Merlin made behind his back, but he heard him ask for a beer. "Get it yourself," he said, returning to the table empty-handed. He saw Merlin eyeing the old photograph.

The woman in it was beautiful. Her dark hair was cut to a curly bob popular in the thirties, and the diamond clip on the side barely twinkled compared to her eyes. She was caught in mid-laugh. Merlin could only imagine the melodious sound she emitted as she reclined on a chaise lounge, the sequins of her gown shining as bright as her smile.

"I ate her rabbit."

Merlin snapped his gaze up. "_What?_"

Arthur picked up the photo, fingering it gently. He smiled to himself. "And I haven't had it since."

He was starving. The battle was brutal and he lost a lot of blood. Despite his deteriorating health, he patrolled the lower town. The people had fled to the woods while the rich and noble, vampire and human, barricaded themselves in the citadel.

There were bodies scattered about, mostly men who probably died protecting their families. Arthur eyed the bodies with temptation, his vision alternating between blurry from fatigue to sharp from adrenaline fueled desperation and hunger.

They didn't drink from the dead. They drink from willing servants, those honored to provide for the royal family and army, and those who offer their blood for coin.

He turned away, staggering down the street with no real destination. He hoped someone showed up soon, though he'd have to use every ounce of strength he had left to not attack them in an instant, going straight for the jugular. Nothing tasted worse than fear, only the sadistic favored the taste. And he most certainly didn't have the energy to compel them to relax.

Arthur stumbled into a small house. He heard a rapid heartbeat coming from the corner. His vision sharpened again as he honed in on a plump white rabbit sprinkled with brown spots sitting in a wooden cage. He found a meal.

When he finished, he was barely full, but his vision was clearer and his wounds were healing faster. He heard the door creak open and close and soft footsteps that stopped behind him. He turned around slowly to find a child standing behind him, a girl about ten.

For a second, Arthur thought about how fresh her blood would taste.

_Thump!_

The rabbit's foot fell from his lap onto the floor.

Her eyes looked from the rabbit's foot to the tufts of fur stuck to Arthur's chainmail that was splashed with blood. Tears welled in her eyes as her face scrunched in fury. "You ate Mr. Hopper!"

Shocked sober, Arthur scrambled to his feet, more pieces of Mr. Hopper revealed behind him. She was about to yell again, but he rushed forward shocking her silent. "Please don't scream. I'm not going to hurt you," he pleaded. Arthur cursed his hunger; they don't feed on children. He raised his hands in surrender, looking into her eyes hoping she'd see his sincerity. Though it was dark, he could make out the freckles that dusted across her nose and cheeks…_like Mr. Hopper_.

"You're the Prince," She stated.

He nodded. "I am."

"That doesn't give you the right to come into someone's home and eat their friends!"

Arthur was taken aback by her outburst. "Is this your home?" She shook her head. That explained why he was able to get in without an invite. The owners were dead.

"My parents died before the war. The neighbors took in my brother, Mr. Hopper, and me. Then my brother left. They're dead too, my neighbors. They never made it to the woods."

"You're alone." Arthur thought for a moment, intrigued by this little girl brave enough to return to town on her own before anyone else, and to tell him off. "What's your name?"

"My name is Guinevere, my lord, but everyone calls me Gwen."

Arthur offered his hand to her. "Well, Guinevere, I'm sorry for eating Mr. Hopper." It was the first time Arthur Pendragon ever apologized.

Gwen stared at his hand. He had forgotten about the blood. He hastily wiped as much as he could away on his pants leg before raising it again, a sheepish look on his face.

She took it.

"She looks much older than ten in this picture." Merlin now held the photograph; he couldn't help but be entranced by it. "She's a vampire."

"I brought her to live in the castle. She served my sister, and they grew close. Guinevere was so dedicated to her service that she didn't want to leave Morgana, so Morgana sired her," Arthur explained somberly.

Merlin grew extremely curious at Arthur's tone. "What happened to her?"

"Don't you have a job to do?" Arthur tried to evade.

"Don't you?" Merlin shot back. Arthur glared at him. "Clearly you're in a mood, so I'm gonna head back to HQ." Before he left he took the cooler and a beer.

It was ten years after bringing her to the castle when Arthur felt himself falling for Gwen. When he first brought her to Morgana, his sister coddled her. Their father thought Morgana had taken a child as a pet, so Morgana made Gwen her handmaiden. Then for the last four years, she's been serving as Morgana's private blood servant. The first time Morgana drank her blood, Gwen came to him in the middle of the night.

Sixteen-year-old Gwen sat in the chair, hands in her lap, her eyes fixed on the area of her wrist where Morgana fed from her. The bite was healed with Morgana's blood, but the sensation was still there.

Arthur knelt in front of her and covered her hands with his. "You don't have to keep doing this, you know."

"No, I'm fine," she said. "I have to do this. Morgana's taken such good care of me. I'd do it for you, too! Uh…I mean, if you needed…"

"Are you sure you're okay?" His thumb caressed her wrist where the bite was.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said. He believed her and pulled her up with him.

Arthur kissed her forehead. "Get some sleep, Guinevere."

For the next four years, Gwen would occasionally show up in his chambers earlier than when Morgana would normally retire for the night. They would just talk, or she'd mostly just listen to him speak about his concerns about the kingdom.

Arthur drained the cup of wine he had started before Gwen arrived. He poured a cup for her before refilling his. "So…who's the serving girl my sister has replaced you with?"

"_Manservant._" Gwen corrected, harsher than she intended.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Are you jealous?"

"No! I mean, it's been going on for a while. Well, it started as Morgana having other _needs_." Arthur grimaced. "She can have both with him. All I have to do is dress her, and make her bed, and do her laundry. I'm just feeling sort of useless, I guess."

Arthur took a sip of his wine. Gwen noticed his hand shaking, and he looked a bit pale. They were symptoms of blood withdrawal. He didn't stop feeding on purpose, he would just lose his appetite when a serving girl would come when he calls. He only had one servant on his mind, and he didn't have the heart to drink from her.

"I'm fine," he said as he stood and stumbled. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and the smell of lavender flooded his senses. He knew Gwen was standing in front of him now. Her hands cupped his cheeks.

Arthur opened his eyes, bright sapphire darkened. Gwen's heart pounded. He closed his eyes again, groaning, leaning forward slightly.

"You need to feed," he barely heard Gwen say over the sound of her heartbeat. Keeping his eyes closed, he turned his head and kissed her palm, then her wrist. Gwen's lips parted in anticipation. Hearing her slight intake of breath, Arthur opened his eyes, focusing on her before his head followed. He ducked his head and captured her lips with his. Before Gwen could respond, Arthur pulled away.

He pressed his cheek to hers. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she replied without hesitation.

He kissed her cheek, her jaw, and then the pulse point of her neck. He nibbled, teasing her, preparing her. His fangs extended and penetrated her flesh. She tensed for a moment, letting out a small gasp. Arthur would've pulled away, but one of her hands clutched his tunic at his chest while the other went from the nape of his neck and trailed up into his hair as she pressed herself closer to him.

Arthur has never tasted anything so rich, so pure. He was instantly jealous of Morgana for having Gwen all to herself, but at the same time, he thought his sister foolish for giving her up. He felt Gwen's grip slacken, and he pulled away before he lost control. The bite welled; he caught a trickle of blood with his tongue before it made its way down her neck. Arthur had to stop himself.

He bit his lip so it bled. He kissed his bite on her neck, his blood healing her.

"You're not useless. Don't ever think that," he murmured into her neck before pulling away.

"Arthur…" she said breathlessly, fixated on his bloodstained lips. She lifted on her toes and kissed him hard, tasting their mingled blood.

* * *

Gwen watched the footage of the warehouse burning on the late night news. They were calling it an accident. A rave gone wrong. Gwen turned off the television and stared blankly at the black screen. She saw Morgana standing behind her in the reflection.

"What's on your mind, Gwen?"

"I want you to release me." The words flowed out of her mouth.

Morgana was in front of her in an instant, gripping her arms. "_What did you say?_"

"I want you to release me," Gwen repeated.

"Why would you want such a thing?" Morgana asked frantically. "I thought we were sisters! You-You were the one who wanted this, to serve me _forever_!" she shrieked. Her grip on Gwen's arms tightened.

Gwen winced. "I've been loyal to you for centuries, Morgana, even after you forced me to leave him-to stop loving him. I can't take this anymore. You force to feed on humans to excess. To kill. I can't be part of this warpath you're on. You're conjuring seven different types of hell just to spite your family!"

"You're my family, Gwen."

Morgause casually walked into the room. "Hurry, _sister_. Don't keep her waiting. She already has her suitcase packed." She casually picked dried blood out from under her fingernails.

Gwen never trusted Morgause. She was an instigator, a manipulator, and the fuel to Morgana's fire.

There was a heavy silence in the room before Morgana broke it. "How long were you planning this?" She snarled. "Oh, my sweet, sweet, Gwen. You're going to run back to him, aren't you? Go back to being his little whore."

When Gwen was still a little girl, she gave Morgana a bouquet of wild flowers. She held them up in front of her face and shyly said, "These are for you, my lady."

Morgana bent down looking Gwen in the eyes over the other side of the bouquet. "You are the sweetest thing," she said. "A sweet voice, sweet honey brown eyes, a sweet face hiding behind this sweet bouquet."

"Release me, Morgana." This time Gwen's voice was cold and her eyes were hard with defiance. "I will not ask you again."

The slightest look of loss could be seen in Morgana's eyes before her jaw clenched, her face turning to stone. She dropped her arms and backed away. Looking her progeny in the eye she said, "I release you…Guinevere."

Gwen let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She felt her chest constrict then release. It was the most relief she felt since Morgana took her away. She was free.

"Don't thank me. In fact, I should be the one thanking you." Morgana said impassively. "At least I won't be forced to feel anything when you die."

"Goodbye, Morgana," Gwen said. This time she closed the door behind herself.

* * *

Gwen sat on Morgana's bed, her fingers nervously picking at the sheets just like the first time she sat on her bed fourteen years ago.

Morgana sat next to her and held her hand. Arthur stood off to the side, a bundle of nerves.

"You can go, Arthur," Morgana said.

He tried to protest.

She smiled warmly. "Go, dear brother. I'll get you when it's done."

Arthur still looked hesitant. Gwen gave him a nod of reassurance. With one last look, Arthur left Morgana's chambers.

They watched the door close behind him. Gwen gripped Morgana's hand. "I'm ready."

Morgana hugged Gwen, buried her face in her neck, and bit down. Morgana never fed from her neck, and Gwen could immediately tell the difference between the siblings approach. Arthur's fangs had pierced her slowly, as gently as possible. Morgana was quick and anxious.

Her mistress drank fiercely. Gwen was finding it harder to breathe; her heart pounded heavily, her body panicking. Morgana didn't relent, and her body stopped fighting. She tired and her vision darkened as her eyelids closed. Her body went limp.

Morgana felt the blood flow slower and sucked harder. She couldn't get enough. Gwen's blood was like fine wine matured with age. She regretted pushing Gwen to the side in favor for a manservant.

When she realized she couldn't feel Gwen's pulse against her lips, she broke away with a gasp. Gwen's head lolled back, arms limp at her sides. _No. No! NO! _Morgana panicked.

Uther told his children that when they decided to become a maker, to not drain all the blood. The last bit of their future progeny's old life must be left in them.

She laid Gwen down on the bed. She bit her wrist and brought it to Gwen's mouth. "Drink, Gwen," Morgana pleaded. "Come on, Gwen. You have to _drink_!" She wedged her wrist deeper between Gwen's lips. "Please, Guinevere! _Please don't leave me!_"

Gwen's lips twitched against Morgana's wrist, her throat bobbed as she drank. Tears of relief flowed down Morgana's face. Gwen's hands came up to clutch Morgana's wrist, trying to bring it even closer. Her grip tightened and her feeding became more aggressive.

"That's enough, Gwen." Morgana said soothingly as she pried herself gently from Gwen's mouth. Gwen's head instinctively lifted as her nose followed the scent of blood.

The Gwen's eyes shot open and she collapsed back on the bed. She could taste the sweet, sharp, metallic taste of blood on each taste bud. She focused on the roof of the canopy bed. It shook with vibrations as she tried to focus, then she saw each individual grain.

Morgana was calling her name. Turning her head she saw Morgana lean over her, gently grasping her shoulders. Gwen watched as each raven strand fell over her maker's shoulder, moving together and swaying like an inky black curtain.

"Morgana," Gwen's voice rasped as she reached for her.

Morgana helped her sit up and hugged her tightly. "I'm here, Gwen." She rocked her newborn progeny. "Forever."

* * *

_Christmas Eve, 1933_

Gwen wrote on the back of the photograph and tucked it into the breast pocket of Arthur's tuxedo jacket. As her hand lifted away, Arthur took it in his and brought his other to rest on the small of her back.

"What are you doing?" Gwen asked teasingly.

"Dance with me, Guinevere."

"There's no music." She said as her hand rested on his forearm.

Arthur brought his head down closer to hers, noses touching. "There's always music."

They rocked slowly side to side. Gwen placed her head on his chest and Arthur rested his chin on top of her head. She began to hum. He knew the song well, he listened to her sing it countless times.

_When I dream of you_

_Dream the whole night through…_

The candlelight flickered and reflected off her gold sequin gown making it glitter and shine as if it too were a flame. Arthur took advantage of the opened back of her dress, and his fingers slowly stroked up and down her spine.

Gwen smiled and continued to hum.

_Lie awake and softly whisper_

"_I'm quite in love with you…"_

Later that night, Gwen laid in their bed on her stomach as Arthur trailed slow opened mouth kisses up her back. He reached the bite on her shoulder he gave her moments ago and licked away the blood as it healed closed. Gwen's head rested on the pillow to the side, her eyes closed and a satiated smile on her face.

"I love you, Guinevere," Arthur whispered in her ear.

It was their last night together.

Uther called everyone to the headquarters Christmas morning. Arthur, Morgana, and his core council sat in the conference room. Gwen stood dutifully behind her maker.

"I called you here to announce my retirement. I wanted you all to know first. I'm passing the Authority to my son, Arthur." Uther said.

"What?" the Pendragon siblings said in unison.

"I've seen you lead the most brutal battles and achieve the most glorious victories, Arthur. You are always ready to take on anything, especially in these ever-changing times. You are ready to be King. You've been ready for a long time. Do me proud, son." Uther placed a firm, supportive hand his shoulder.

Morgana bolted out of her seat. "It's not fair!" she shouted. "I work harder. You're only giving it Arthur because your mind is stuck in the Dark Ages!"

Uther rose from his seat, everyone followed. "You're too irrational, Morgana. At a sudden irritation, you become Elizabeth Báthory!" Uther stated.

Morgana was boiling. Uther always favored Arthur. She would always be his bastard daughter. There were times when she truly loved Arthur as her brother, but in moments like these, she truly hated him. To her, he was just her half brother. Uther mourned Arthur's mother, but not hers. He raised Arthur, he took Morgana in when she was ten. They may share Uther's blood, but Arthur was his _son_.

She should be Queen. Gwen would now have more power than her in the Authority. Uther never approved of Arthur and Gwen's relationship, but they lasted longer than any known vampire couple, a millennium devoted to each other. They had a sire bond forged from love.

Morgana had been entertained by their relationship, how gentle and domesticated Arthur became around Gwen. As her maker, Morgana could sense the way Arthur made her progeny feel. It was a different love that Morgana wasn't sure she could give or ever receive.

Gwen was a buffer between the siblings. She had a lovely way of not choosing sides and not having one feeling loved more than the other. But now Gwen will stand at Arthur's side as his queen. She'll have more power than her.

Morgana's temper flared. "I've led, I've fought! And I get nothing!"

"Stop acting like a petulant child, Morgana. I'll be happy to have you as head of council." Arthur offered.

She snapped. "I'll show you petulant child, dear brother." She glared. "_Guinevere!_" she called. "We're leaving."

Gwen gave Morgana a questioning look. "Morg—"

"As your maker, I forbid you to love Arthur." Morgana would always remember the crushing look on Arthur's face.

Before anyone could say a word, Gwen and Morgana were gone, not to be seen again for the next eighty years.

* * *

It was almost three in the morning when Merlin left the office. He passed the rabbit blood off to Gwaine, who took the beer too. He trudged down the sidewalk; it's been a long day. Not paying attention, he tripped over a suitcase.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" A woman said. Merlin looked to see her scramble up from her sitting position on the sidewalk curb. When he saw her face, Merlin gaped.

"You-You-It's you! I can't believe it's you!" Merlin exclaimed, pointing at her.

A million scenes went through Gwen's head as she wondered where Merlin knew her from, fearing he's seen her with Morgana in one of the many horrible acts she was forced to commit. She just heard the trail end of what he was saying.

"…ur rabbit, Mr. Hopper!"

"What did you just say?" Gwen's eyes went wide.

"Arthur ate your rabbit, Mr. Hopper. You're Guinevere! I've seen your picture."

"You know…Arthur…?" She hadn't said his name in eighty years.

"Unfortunately, I do. That prat bleeds me dry, figuratively, of course." Merlin's excitement died down when he realized she was looking at him funny. "I'm Merlin, by the way. It's nice to meet you, Guinevere."

She couldn't believe this human. "Call me Gwen…" It's the only thing she could manage to get out.

Merlin eyed the suitcase. "Are you going somewhere?"

She didn't have much of a plan for when she would leave Morgana. She honestly didn't think Morgana would let her go. She went to the Authority, hoping to find Arthur, but it was too late and she knew he wasn't there, so she sat on the curb in defeat. "I wasn't…Could you take me…to him?" she asked hesitantly.

A wide smile spread across Merlin's face. "Of course!"

The most Arthur had moved since Merlin left was to lay his head in his arms on the table. He heard the jittering of the lock and the door swing open and bang against the wall. Groaning in annoyance, he got up and walked to the hall shouting, "Merlin, I'm really considering revoking your key privileges!"

"Not after this you won't," Merlin said smugly as he moved out of the doorway and walked passed Arthur.

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Guinevere…"

"Hello, Arthur." Gwen looked down at the threshold then back to him, lips curved in a hesitant smile. "Can I come in?"

Her voice snapped him out his trance. He walked to the doorway and stood just on the other side of the entrance.

"_Please_." It was an invitation and a prayer as he brought his hand up for her to take before she was taken from him again. "Come in."

Gwen stepped over the threshold and into his arms.

* * *

**A/N: ** So yeah. Welcome back to those who read the original one-shot, and hello to new readers!

**Thank you** for reading!


	2. A Broken Bond

**Author's Note: **I'm sort of basing Morgana's character off her actions in The Dark Tower and the puppet queen arc.

**Warning: **Gwen gets tortured. Right after this. I'm a terrible person.

**Chapter 2: **A Broken Bond

They spent weeks running from Arthur. It stopped at the villa the three of them shared at Lake Como.

Morgana led Gwen to the topmost room, the room Gwen shared with Arthur. Morgause moved a chair into the center.

"Sit, Gwen." Morgana commanded.

Gwen clenched her jaw and sat, glaring at Morgana.

Morgause took a rag and stuffed it into Gwen's mouth. "In case you get too loud." Then she took a rope and tied Gwen to the chair, only allowing her hands and forearms movement.

She came around and held Gwen's left arm to the chair as Morgana turned her right palm up. She pulled out a knife and Gwen's eyes went wide. She began to struggle but Morgause's firm grip pinned her down.

Morgana lightly ran the tip of the blade up and down Gwen's forearm. "I know what you've been doing, Gwen. You think you're so clever." Gwen looked between Morgana and the blade. Morgana never broke her gaze from Gwen as she trailed the tip along Gwen's arm. "Your connection with Arthur allows him to track where you are. Well, it's time we get my pesky brother _out_ of your system."

At that moment, the tip was at the crook of Gwen's arm and Morgana pressed down, piercing the flesh. Gwen's body tightened as she tried to push back into the chair away from the blade. Morgana only pressed deeper, gritting her teeth, biting biting back the pain as she, too, felt what her progeny was feeling. She proceeded to drag the blade down, excruciatingly slow, slicing Gwen's arm open to the wrist. Gwen eyes were clenched shut, and she thrashed as much as she could while bound to the chair. Her screams were muffled by the rag and hot tears flowed down her face.

"_Shh_, my darling. Just one more time and it'll all be over."

Gwen heaved, taking deep breaths through her nose. Morgana took the rag out of her mouth and Gwen coughed.

"_Please_—_Please_, Morgana," Gwen pleaded and gulped. "I'm sorry!"

Morgana caressed Gwen's cheek in a feeble attempt to calm her and wipe away her tears. "I know it hurts. It hurts me, too, Guinevere. But this must be done." She gagged Gwen again and cut open her left arm, quicker this time, tearing through the flesh.

Morgause backed away as Gwen bled out, the two puddles of blood on opposite sides of the chair merged into one. Morgana walked behind Gwen as she stopped struggling and slumped forward. She removed the gag and Gwen let out ragged breaths.

"Mor…morgana…m'…lady…"

The sun was setting, and its rays beamed through the windows. It reflected in the dark puddle, making it glitter blood red and gold. Pendragon colors.

Gwen didn't have enough energy for her body to heal itself, and she was on the verge of passing out. Morgana pulled her up and tilted it back.

"…for the best…" she heard Morgana say before everything went black.

* * *

Arthur banged the steering wheel and let out a frustrated yell. Elyan stared straight ahead in the passenger's seat, looking defeated.

Halfway to the villa, Arthur felt a sharp pain in his chest that spread throughout his body and hit the brakes in the middle of the highway; luckily no one else was on the road. He doubled over in pain and could barely hear Elyan frantically asking what was wrong.

"Guinevere! Something's happening to her!" Arthur bit out.

"What—what's happening to my sister?" Elyan was already thinking the worst. He already had centuries of guilt over the times he's left her. He was a teenager when he left home, leaving Gwen and their guardians. He traveled for years, never settling until he met the vampire that turned him. He was a blacksmith, just like their father. He gave Elyan a home and new life. Because of that vampire, when Elyan returned to Camelot, he found Gwen blessed with immortality by the royal family. Their reunion was tearful and joyous, but for centuries she would scold him for his flighty behavior, which he deserved.

Arthur caught his breath. "I don't kn—" Another pained scream ripped from his throat.

Elyan didn't know what to do as he watched Arthur slump, sweat dripping down his forehead, trying to catch his breath and anticipate another wave of pain.

"I can't…" Arthur breathed out, chest heaving. "I can't feel her."

By the time they arrived at the villa, it was abandoned. Arthur stood outside the upstairs room, refusing to enter. He stared at the chair and the blood stained tile. It had spread into the grooves, branching away from the puddle like veins.

Elyan spoke up. "She's not dead…is she? She can't be."

"No." Arthur knew that much. "Morgana wouldn't kill her."

Elyan put the blood and Arthur's pain together. "Gwen's blood…your blood. Morgana bled her out to break your bond."

Arthur couldn't stand to be there for another second. "Let's go," he ordered.

* * *

Gwen heard the distant cry of seagulls, and felt a hand stroking her hair. She buried face deeper into the warm cushion, and heard a familiar giggle. Her eyes shot open and she sat up. She brought her hand to her mouth and could taste blood, Morgana's blood.

Morgana sat on her knees at the head of the bed, smiling, feigning innocence in a white strapless maxi dress.

Gwen looked down and found herself wearing a white dress similar to Morgana's. They were no longer in the villa, but a bright room of whites and blues and browns. Crystal blue waters could be seen outside the open shutter windows.

"We're in Greece."

Gwen turned back to Morgana.

"You were out for quite some time. My sweet Gwen, a sleeping beauty." She inched toward Gwen who scooted back, and fell off the bed. She picked herself back up too quickly and became dizzy. Morgana was by her side in an instant, and Gwen leaned heavily into her. She clung to Morgana's waist and buried her head in her chest. It was like she was turned for the first time.

"You're free of him now, Gwen," Morgana said as she stroked her hair. "We gave a fresh start."

* * *

Gwen stood outside the Louvre watching tour groups and couples leave the closing museum. There were easier places to find prey but she was already there and getting hungry.

"..English…Please speak English…" She heard a voice coming in her direction and getting louder as it came closer.

She turned around just as a man in a college t-shirt was about to tap her shoulder.

He startled. "Oh, sorry! Je suis désolé. Er, excusez-moi...or is it—" Gwen cut his rambling short.

"It's alright," she said.

He sighed in relief. "Oh thank God you speak English." She looked at him with amusement as he unfolded a map. "I'm staying at this hostel, but I can't find the street on the map. Do you think you can point me in the right direction?" He told her the name of the hostel and nearby shops, hoping she'd recognize them.

"I know exactly where that is." She wasn't lying. "I'll get you there." _Eventually._

"Thank you so much," he said as they walked. "I'm John. My friends totally ditched me. Got bored, said it was lame, blah, blah, blah." He enthusiastically talked about how much fun he was having touring Europe. He just wished his friends weren't tagging along to party.

Gwen pretended to trip and as John tried to catch her, she grabbed him and purposefully stumbled into the alleyway they were in front of. She pressed him against the wall and gave him a shy smile. "Sorry."

John swallowed. "No, it's fine." He looked into the innocent eyes staring up at him. He started to feel like he was in one of those chick flicks about serendipitous romance.

"John," Gwen said slowly, soothingly, holding their gaze. "Could you do me a favor?" She traced the opening of the crew neck, her nail tickling his skin.

He nodded, enchanted.

"I'm going to feed from you, and you cannot scream. Can you do that for me, John?"

He nodded again and tilted his head to the side exposing his neck. She drank enough to satisfy her thirst and not completely weaken him. She healed the bite and looked him in the eyes again.

"This never happened, John," she said calmly, holding his head up in her hands. "If you continue straight for two blocks, you'll find your hostel on the corner." He nodded for the third time and she let him go. He had a dazed look on his face, yet he walked with a purpose out of the alley and out of site around the corner.

"That was the gentlest feed I've ever witnessed," a smooth voice said from behind her.

She turned around as a man, a vampire, came out of the shadows. He was finely dressed, black on black, tan skin, sleek dark brown hair, and matching eyes. Tall, dark, and handsome.

"You're not from around here," he stated. "A tourist feeding on another tourist."

Gwen stared back at him.

He gave a small bow. "Excuse my rudeness, mademoiselle, my name is Lancelot du Lac."

"Lancelot?"

"You can just call me Lance." He smiled at her.

They walked until they found themselves sitting at the base of the Eiffel Tower. Lance spoke of how he lost his family during the French Revolution. He lived on the streets until his maker found him. Hengist, his name was. He was a foul and crooked. He made his progenies fight each other like dogs for money until one day Lance drove a stake through his heart, freeing them. He's been on his own ever since, travelling and doing charitable work.

"What about you? Are you on your own?" Lance asked.

Gwen shook her head. "My maker's back at our hotel. I really wanted to go to the museum. It wasn't there the last time I was in Paris."

Lance leaned closer, curious. "And when was the last time you were in Paris?"

Gwen looked up at him through her eyelashes, teasing. "It was long before your time."

"How long?"

Gwen pouted as she did the math in her head. "Four hundred and fifty or so years?"

Lance was fascinated by her. "Just how old are you, exactly?"

She giggled. "You shouldn't ask a woman her age!"

"Apologies, my lady," he said before kissing her knuckles. Gwen held her breath.

Gwen slipped her hand out of his. "I'm no lady, but my maker is, and she's calling me." She stood up, brushing grass from her legs. She offered her hand to Lance.

He accepted it gratefully. "I hope we meet again. To be clear, I don't usually hang around in alleys. My apartment was a few floors up. I came down when I heard you," he confessed.

"You didn't strike me as the creepy type," Gwen said and walked away with one last look over her shoulder.

When she entered the hotel room, Morgana was sitting on the bed, legs crossed and smirking. "I understand that Paris is the city of love, but we've only just got here, Gwen."

Gwen blushed as she changed out of her clothes and into a nightshirt, and crawled under the covers. Morgana joined her and she nestled into her maker.

"So, who was he," Morgana prodded.

"He was turned during the French Revolution."

"Is he cute?" she pressed.

"Go to sleep, Morgana." Gwen half-heartedly tried to order.

Morgana poked her in the side and she squealed. "As your maker, I demand you to tell me the attractiveness of this mystery vamp!" She tickled Gwen.

Gwen flailed, laughing. "He's very handsome, my lady," she admitted. "Tall, dark, and handsome."

"_Ooh_, why didn't you bring him back with you?"

Gwen gave her an incredulous look.

"Right," Morgana said. "Not on the first date." She winked.

Gwen hit Morgana with her pillow before turning around, laying on her other side and closing her eyes. She felt Morgana lean over her and could imagine her grinning.

"Good night, my darling," She said, pecking Gwen on the cheek and spooning behind her.

They spent a few years in France, and Gwen saw Lance on and off. She was drawn to him, but she still kept her distance. An echo of a memory between her and Arthur would surface only to be pushed back by Morgana's voice telling her she was all she needed.

When Morgana grew bored of France, they toured Asia in the nineties and back to Europe in the new millennium, settling in Ireland.

Gwen came back from her usual early Sunday morning grocery shopping. She fell fast asleep the night before, not bothering to wait up for Morgana. She felt her presence when she awoke and figured she could get the shopping done and breakfast ready before Morgana got up. As she was bent over in the refrigerator, putting the vegetables in the crisper, she felt a presence behind her and its hands grabbed her hips. She yelped, turning around, and grabbed the man by his neck, slamming him into the table.

Morgana rushed into the kitchen in a robe, hair wet. "What happened, Gwen? Are you okay?"

"Her? What about me?" said the man pinned to the table. "Although, I really don't mind when a woman gets rough." He winked at Gwen.

Gwen let go and backed away. The Irishman was scruffy in a well kept sort of way and only in a pair of jeans riding low on his hips.

"What's going on? What did you do to her?" Morgana asked in an accusing tone while she put a comforting arm around Gwen's shoulders.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Hey now, it was an accident. I thought she was you."

Morgana didn't believe him. "No really," he insisted. "I went out for a smoke. When I came back in, she was bent over and…" he trailed off when he caught Morgana's glare. "Please accept my apologies." He said to Gwen.

"Er…" Gwen only managed to get out.

"I'm Gwaine," he said. "And you must be Morgana's progeny. And what a lovely girl she's sired. You must be a princess. Yes! Princess Sophia, or maybe an Esmerelda."

"It's Gwen," she said flatly.

"You know," Gwaine looked back and forth between Gwen and Morgana. "I've never had a maker and her progeny before."

Morgana snorted. "You're disgusting."

Morgana and Gwaine saw each other casually, even though they appeared to hate each other. Gwen warmed up to him, though. He'd bring her a flower from her own garden and playfully flirt with her while Morgana was getting ready for one of their benders. Eventually, Morgana and Gwaine grew tired of each other, and Morgana no longer felt like staying in Ireland anymore.

They were in an exclusive vampire pub when the decision was made to go back to England.

"Have you heard the things Pendragon's done?"

"He's brilliant!"

"Now that's a King…."

"…better than his da…"

Morgana stood, pulling Gwen with her. "It's time to go."

* * *

Gwen stared into the glass tumbler in her hands. She couldn't bring herself to drink the animal blood inside.

Arthur took the glass from her, understanding. "Morgana had you on a strictly human diet, huh? You can feed off Merlin if you'd like."

Merlin squeaked. "_Hey!_"

Gwen gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll be alright."

"I can't believe she let you go," Arthur said.

"Morgana never just lets things go." She looked at Arthur with worry. "I don't know what she's going to do next."

They sat in silence, trying to predict Morgana's next move.

"We should all get some sleep," Arthur concluded. "Merlin, bring Guinevere's things to the second guest bedroom." When Merlin was out of site, Arthur turned back to Gwen. "I never stopped searching for you. When Morgana broke the bond, I felt it. Every fiber of my being was being ripped apart, but I never stopped searching." He remembered the villa. "I'll make her pay for what she's done to you."

Gwen leaned into him. Her head tucked into his chest, her fingers played with the buttons on his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her hair. Despite being so close, they both felt a disconnect. Gwen was acting on memory. She knew she'd feel comfort and security in his arms, but not why, not yet. Morgana's influence still affected her.

Arthur could tell by the way Gwen held herself that she wasn't completely there. She skimmed the details of Morgana's reign of terror, and he could see the internal battle she was having whenever she displayed emotion toward him. When she stepped into his arms at the doorway, she held herself in the position she was in now. It allowed him the comfort he needed, to have her in his arms, but she couldn't reciprocate. In some way, Morgana still managed to win.

For now.

"I have to take care of a few things at the Authority." Arthur muttered into her hair. "Then come the weekend, we're going to Avalon."

* * *

**A/N: **What? Avalon? More will be explained in the next chapter thati'mmakingupasigoalong

Apologies if you were upset/offended at the beginning. Please don't hate me!

**Thank you** for reading


	3. Avalon

**Author's Note: **I've reworked this chapter so many times. I'm sorry for everything XD. Also, I went back and edited ch. 2. There were some continuity errors and other tiny things (and probably made new errors while doing so), specifically the torture scene, since (if you don't want go back and reread) Morgana was supposed to feel what she was doing to Gwen being that they're connected and all and it totally slipped my mind, so I added some of that.

Thanks for the lovely reviews! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

**Chapter 3**: Avalon

Gwen hid behind Arthur as he pounded on the door.

The door swung open and the Lady Morgana glared at her brother. "What? Has Uther sent you up here to make sure I didn't run off? All I want to do is help and he—" She saw Gwen behind Arthur's leg. "Who's this?"

"This," he said as he moved Gwen in front of him. "is Guinevere."

Gwen gave a shaky curtsy and avoided looking up at Morgana.

Arthur continued. "I, uh, found her in the lower town."

"He ate Mr. Hopper," Gwen muttered.

Morgana knelt down to Gwen's height. "What was that?"

"She said I ate Mr. Hopper, her rabbit," Arthur huffed.

Morgana looked up at Arthur in disbelief. He looked back at her with a defensive look. "I didn't know!"

"So you brought her to me because…"

"You could use a friend. And she yelled at me, so you two have that in common."

Morgana looked at Gwen with pride. "Is that true? Did you yell at the Prince?"

Gwen looked at Morgana then back to the floor. "Maybe I scolded him, my lady," she mumbled.

Morgana laughed and took Gwen's hands. "Anyone that puts Arthur in his place is a friend of mine."

* * *

Gwen sat cross-legged on the bed. It was 8:00 a.m. and she could hear Arthur and Merlin in the kitchen. She debated on whether or not to interrupt their conversation about her. Arthur wanted to leave her here and have Merlin look after her. Merlin, as much as he found Gwen lovely, was understandably nervous. What if she gets hungry, he said. _For human blood_, the words were left unsaid.

She got up and made her way to the kitchen. "The sausage is burning."

Arthur stood up at her presence, and Merlin cursed and tended to the sausage.

"I thought you'd still be sleeping," Arthur said.

Gwen sat at the table. "Couldn't sleep and you couldn't, either. I didn't hear you snoring."

Merlin coughed in an attempt to hide his laugh.

Arthur bit the inside of his cheek. "I. Do. Not. Snore."

Gwen crossed her arms. "I don't know about the last eighty years, but for the first millen—"

"You should be resting," Arthur interrupted, trying to change the subject.

"I'm not staying holed up in here. I'm coming with you." Gwen said firmly.

Merlin set a plate in front of her first. Two burnt sausages and equally burnt toast. Gwen giggled at the pitiful display and Arthur grimaced.

"How about we go out for breakfast?"

Why not hide a vampire headquarters in the middle of London. It looked like an ordinary business building. The Authority was once in an older building, but with modernization, downtown London greatly changed. When they entered the lobby, George ran out from behind the desk to greet Arthur and Merlin, then he turned to Gwen and said, "Excuse me, Miss, but you're going to have to sign in."

"She's with me, George," Arthur said pushing Gwen in the direction of the elevator.

George followed after them. "But—but sir, guest must sign in. It's—"

"_George_," Arthur said with exasperation. The elevator opened and they walked in, George remained outside. "Relax." The doors closed.

Arthur opened a latch to reveal a retina scanner. It scanned his eye and the elevator went down.

It came to a stop and the doors open to reveal a long metallic hallway. Gwen was impressed. "What is this, a bomb shelter?"

"Post-war nuclear arms race did have some influence," Arthur said. The hallway branched into several other halls. Arthur promised to give a tour later. When they reached their destination, Arthur kicked the ground bashfully. "I really wanted you to stay home and get some rest, but I also wanted to bring Elyan to you as a surprise."

"Elyan's here?" Gwen's voice went up with hope.

"Yeah," he said. "Guess he'll be the one getting a surprise." He entered a code in the keypad and the metal door slid open. He blocked her from being seen.

"For someone who called this meeting so early, you sure are late," Gwen heard Elyan's say.

Arthur wanted to come back with a witty comeback, but he settled for stepping to the side to reveal Gwen. Elyan's jaw dropped along with everyone else in the room. "You're welcome," he said smugly.

"Gwen!" Elyan embraced her tightly, uttering numerous apologies in her ear. She heard Leon say "You found her?" and Merlin take the credit. When Elyan let her and held her at arm's length to get a good look at her, she noticed a very tall man behind him.

"Percival!" She moved to the man who enveloped her like a bear. Percival and her brother shared a maker. He was like another brother to her.

And so was Leon who came into view.

"Gwen," He said affectionately.

"Hello, _Sir_ Leon." Gwen hugged him which he returned enthusiastically.

He pulled away. "Ah, we should introduce you to—"

Gwen saw him while Leon was talking. "Lancelot."

Lance stood away from the jolly group in silence. He gave her a small smile and nod.

Arthur looked between them. He didn't like the way they looked at each other. "You know each other?"

Before either could answer, a familiar Irish accent came from the doorway. "What did I miss?" When he saw Gwen, he spread is arms and beamed. "Esmeralda!"

The post-WWII bomb shelter conference room had a large round table in the center of it. Gwen ran her fingers along the hardwood as she sat next to Arthur who was yelling at Gwaine for sleeping with Morgana.

"I knew she was crazy, but I didn't know she was your sister." Gwaine tried to rationalize.

"In his defense," Lance spoke up. "Morgana didn't flaunt that she was a Pendragon."

"She flaunted something else though," Gwaine muttered to himself. They all heard, even Merlin.

The atmosphere was warm with camaraderie, the opposite of the formal business-like meetings Uther would hold. Both Gwaine and Lancelot came to England because they were intrigued by the positive changes Arthur was making in the vampire community. They both never intended to join his council, but they soon found themselves sitting at the round table discussing vampire politics.

Gwen was proud of Arthur. Every country hand an Authority and they all looked to the Authority of the United Kingdom as its founder and leader. They would all be looking at Arthur and the choices he makes, and his decisions would influence all of vampire-kind.

"Are you okay, Gwen?" Elyan asked. His hand touched her shoulder, shaking her out of her thoughts.

She leaned against her brother and smiled as Arthur continued to berate Gwaine. "I'm glad I'm back."

* * *

It was just the two of them at Arthur's penthouse. There was that awkward silence again, and Arthur was about to make it worse by talking.

"So…you know Lance…"

"It's a small world."

No matter how much Arthur tried, he couldn't form sentences properly. "They way he was looking at you…Did you and he…" He rubbed his face with his hands to try and pull himself together. "I don't want you to feel like you have to love me again. If you've found someone else…"

Gwen froze before shaking it off and walked onto the balcony and breathed in the fresh air. She caught a whiff of Arthur's cologne as he came to stand next to her. She closed her eyes and leaned against the ledge.

"You changed your cologne," she commented more to herself than to him. "I never stopped loving you," she whispered. "Even when my actions showed otherwise. Deep down inside I knew." She turned to him. "Nothing happened between me and Lance. I don't even think I could've wanted something to happen if I tried. It was only ever Morgana." She turned back to look at the skyline, her hands gripping the ledge. "How could she—how could she do this to us?"

Arthur placed his hand over hers to try and calm her; he feared her grip would crack the concrete. She took a deep breath and composed herself.

"Is Merlin coming with us to Avalon tomorrow?" she asked, her hand still under his.

He looked shocked that she asked. "Do you want him to?"

"Well I thought that you'd want him to. You seem quite fond of him."

Arthur grinned. "He has his uses."

"Do you think vampires and humans can co-exist peacefully?" Gwen asked carefully.

"Maybe one day. Right now, though, I'm not so sure. These new vampires made in the last century, the ones growing up with the lore, fancy themselves gods among men. There are makers abusing their power, and new vamps are made every day and abandoned just because they can. Others live out this foolish fantasy, and are disappointed when they can go out in the day or don't turn into a bat." He sighed. "Then there are the ones who think they can take what they want and rule over humans."

Gwen looked down at Arthur's hand covering hers. "You shouldn't put this on hold for me. The Authority needs its King."

Arthur's thumb caressed the back of her hand. "A King needs his Queen."

* * *

The drive from London to Glastonbury was just under three hours with Arthur and Merlin's bantering passing the time.

Merlin snickered at Arthur's latest insult, but smiled inwardly. He leaned back and looked out the window watching tree after tree. "Are we on a back road?"

"It's a driveway," Arthur said.

"What? We've been on this road for like ten minutes."

"And we'll be on it for ten more." Arthur glared at Merlin through the rearview mirror.

Merlin sat up straight. "_Oi!_ Keep your eyes on the road!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Stop being such a backseat driver!"

In ten minutes, the trees thinned and revealed spacious landscape. Then there was a stone wall with an iron gate already open. Merlin leaned forward in the seat, mouth as wide open as the gate they passed through. A large, luxurious mansion stood at the end of the "driveway." Arthur circled around the fountain and parked the car in front of the steps. When they all got out. Gwen pulled her coat closer to her to fight off the cold. They waited for Merlin to stop gaping and looked at him amused.

"_This_ is Avalon?" Merlin managed to say.

Gwen looked up at the mansion. More ivy has grown on the side since she last seen it. "Home sweet home."

London's sky was a perpetual grey thanks to its factories. Gwen was fiddling with a wilted plant in the window of their townhouse when she saw Arthur reach the steps. He caught her looking through the window and tipped his hat to her and smiled. She didn't bother turning around when he entered, and continued prodding at the plant. Arthur wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

"You're home early," she said as she leaned back into him, abandoning the plant.

"It was settled that Jack the Ripper is not a vampire," He spoke through his kisses.

She turned around in his arms. "He's human? Has he been found?"

"No, but Gaius has done thorough examinations on the victims and he can't find any signs of a vampire kill, although he could be making it look like a human kill. We're letting it go as a human crime, unless something new comes up."

"Uh huh." She smoothed the lapels of his jacket. "I like it when you let me in on the tales of the Authority, but what is it you really want to tell me."

"You've been a bit down since our assignment in America, so I thought you'd like a bit of good news. But yes, I do have something to tell you. Show you, actually. Pack a bag, my love. We're heading to Glastonbury."

Gwen wasn't expecting this. "Now?"

"Why not? It's still early. We can get there by nightfall" The giddy boyish grin on his face convinced Gwen to start packing.

Arthur helped her out of the carriage. He watched her as she stared in awe at the mansion. "A castle of our very own," he whispered into her ear.

She turned to him, eyes in disbelief and admiration. "Arthur, you shouldn't have!"

"But I did," he said and kissed her hand. "So what do you want to name it?" he asked. "Every great estate needs a name."

Gwen thought for a minute and took in the fresh air and silence. It was a revitalizing after being surrounded by the hustle and bustle of London. "Remember that myth—the one about that lake that healed? Avalon they called it." Gwen said. "Let's call it Avalon."

"Mr. Pendragon!" a voice called out.

"Bill Deira?" Gwen said confused. The last time she saw him he was a gangly tween. Either he's aged gracefully or he's been turned.

"I'm William, ma'am. Bill's my dad." Of course. If you took away the scruffy facial hair, he would just like his father.

Arthur clarified. "The Deira's have continued to take care of the land. William is a father now himself, and if his children want, they'll continue with their father's work. They vow to keep our secret."

"Gardening is in our blood, ma'am. Gardening and loyalty."

Gwen smiled. "Please, William. Call me Gwen."

"Yes Miss. Gwen." William blushed.

Gwen ran a hand along the fireplace then bent down to light it. It ignited quickly. "Still got it," she said with proudly and fell back on the couch between Arthur and Merlin.

"So this was television in the 1800s," Merlin joked.

"This was the heater. Television was the theater." Gwen nudged him in the ribs then said to Arthur, "It's not dusty. You've been coming her a lot."

Merlin had an epiphany. "This is where you come on holiday!"

"I come here any chance I get," Arthur said. "I should get George to do the polishing."

"Wait a minute," Merlin started. "If there are no servants…_You_ clean?"

"_Shut up_, Merlin."

* * *

_Her white chiffon dress was drenched with blood, clinging to her body like a second skin._

_The heart in her hand was still beating._

_The man lay on his back, hole in his chest. His head was to the side, eyes open with no light behind them. She knew who he was just by his jaw line, and blonde hair._

_Arthur._

Gwen woke with a jolt. She looked to her left to find it empty. She remembered that Arthur gave her the master bedroom and chose to sleep in one of the guest rooms. It was barely one o'clock in the morning. She got up and ran a hot bath.

Arthur heard the tinkering of the pipes and the running of water. It was late to be having a bath. Almost a half hour went by and he couldn't hear any movement. Anxious, he got up and went to check on Gwen. He knocked on the door and heard a faint, "Come in." He saw the bathroom door open and entered out of habit.

Gwen sat up and brought her knees to her chest in embarrassment. Arthur mentally kicked himself and turned around. "Oh, God. I'm sorry."

"No, no. I shouldn't even be acting this way. You've probably seen me naked more than I have." She nervously laughed. She felt a flutter in her chest.

"Are you okay?" Arthur fought every urge to turn around.

"I couldn't sleep."

Arthur scratched the back of his head. "I'll just…uh…"

"I ripped a man's heart out, once."

Arthur turned around automatically. Her chin rested on her knees and she looked ahead blankly.

"It was in Argentina. He was a dancer." She stopped to think. "Morgana signed us up for private tango lessons. Such a passionate dance. At the end of it, I could hear his heart pounding. I dug into his chest and felt it beating in my hand. It was still beating in my hand when his body hit the ground." She began to shake despite the water's warm temperature. "But you knew that, didn't you? His partner was working for you; you had people all over the world looking for us. Morgana let him live so he could report back to you."

Arthur sank next to the tub and placed his hand on her back.

His touched warmed her more than the water. Decades of cold melting away. "I had a dream—a nightmare. It was your heart that I tore out." She looked at him and wished she hadn't. He looked at her with unconditional love that she wasn't prepared to return.

"Remember the first time I drank from you and how afraid I was?"Arthur said softly.

She did.

"You told me I wouldn't hurt you. After that night, I would have dreams that I'd drain you dry. I told you every time, but you always came back to me." He stroked her cheek. "Even if Morgana made you rip out my heart, you wouldn't hurt me because it wouldn't be you. Everything's she's made you do, it wasn't you."

"She made me…enjoy it. It wasn't me…"

"No, it wasn't. But you know what you did enjoy?"

She finally looked at him.

"The times when we would share a bath." He gave her a playful smile.

The anguish etched on her face turned to disbelief. She splashed him and laughed.

"There," he said. "I've missed that laugh." He grabbed the towel and stood. "Water's getting cold, you should get out." He turned his head away as she stood. He wrapped the towel around her, and as his arms wrapped around her back, her arms wrapped around his torso.

Dawn was in its infancy when Gwen woke. She stood on the balcony and looked out and the landscape covered in a thick fog. She imagined one bright day when she and Arthur had a picnic in the backyard. Arthur's head rested on her lap, his eyes closed and a smile on his lips as she played with his hair. Gwen leaned down to give him a light kiss. She leaned back as Arthur slowly opened his eyes. His bright eyes darkened as a cloud passed over the sun.

"It's going to rain," he said.

Gwen looked to the sky. A blanket of grey clouds covered the blue. "We should head inside." A drop hit her forehead, quickly followed by more scattering drops.

"Too late." Arthur sat up, pulling Gwen with him and the clouds emptied onto them. Gwen squealed and she began to make her way back to the mansion. Arthur pulled her back to him. "And where do you think you're going?"

Gwen wrapped her arms around Arthur's neck. "Right here, I guess." Another squeal escaped her lips when Arthur pulled her closer. They clung together like the clothes sticking to their bodies, unfazed by the downpour.

Arthur grinned downed at her and lowered his face to hers.

Thunder rumbled and Arthur stopped a centimeter away from her lips. "Okay, maybe we should go inside."

Gwen settled in the steaming tub leaning back against Arthur's chest. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck. She gave sigh of pleasure.

"Better?" Arthur asked nipping at her earlobe.

She giggled. "Mmhmm." She turned her head to capture Arthur's lips.

A shiver ran down Gwen's spine and she stepped off the balcony, shutting the doors behind her. She changed into a sweater and leggings and made her way to the kitchen. As she walked down the stairs her lips curved in a smile when she reached the thirteenth step from the bottom and it creaked the same it did eighty years ago.

The kitchen was built on the ground floor. Unlike estates belonging to aristocratic families, they didn't have servants. Gwen happily did the cooking, and Bill and his family would join them on occasion.

The swinging door was propped open, and Gwen watched from the doorway as Arthur fiddled with his tablet at the table. Modern technology and casual clothes. She imagined him sitting in the sophisticated drawing room in his hoodie and jeans. Decades ago, it was gowns and white ties.

"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to join me?" Arthur called to her without looking up.

She joined him on the table and looked at the screen. He was checking the weather. "This is supposed to be a place to get away from it all, and you install the Internet."

He smiled. "Modern necessity." He turned off the tablet and gave her his full attention. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better, thanks," she replied.

Arthur stood and motioned for her to follow him. Arthur tossed Gwen her jacket, and after she put in on he blindfolded her.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust me," he said as he led her through the kitchen's backdoor to the outside.

The icy air was sharp and the snow crunched under her shoes. Arthur led her from behind, directing her. The faint smell of pine invaded her senses and she knew they were in the forest. He guided her over fallen trees and she wondered why when there was a path that cut through the forest. When they settled into their estate, he had led her down a path lined with wild flowers. The path led straight to the lake, and on the dock was a picnic set up.

He told her to lift her leg over a log she laughed. "At least I'm not wearing a gown."

After a few yards free of obstacles, she slipped and Arthur caught her.

She slipped on ice.

"Are we on the lake?"

"Yep." Arthur continued to urge her forward away from shore. The zigged and zagged, and twirled until they came to a stop. He removed the blindfold and Gwen blinked to adjust her vision.

There wasn't much to adjust to since they were surrounded by a thick fog. Even with enhanced sight, the shore couldn't be seen. It was just them surrounded by negative space.

Gwen was confused. "What's this?"

Arthur looked at her with a straight face. "Lead us back to shore, Guinevere."

"What?"

"Is it this way?" He turned her in one direction. "Or this way?" He turned her in the opposite direction.

She turned back to him. "What if I choose the wrong way?" The lake was so vast that other side was barely visible.

"I'll follow you wherever you go," Arthur said firmly.

Gwen turned back to the direction Arthur turned her last. "This way." She grabbed Arthur's hand.

Arthur looked down at their entwined hands. "How do you know?"

Gwen smiled. "You'd never lead me in the wrong direction." She tugged him and they skated toward the shore. The silhouette of the dock came into view and then the shore and the tree line. The sun was coming out and the fog was clearing.

"No matter what happens, Guinevere, I'll stand by you." Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring; a band of woven silver she last saw the morning Uther called them into the office. She had banged her hand on the vanity causing the ring to bend out of shape, so she took it off with the intention of getting it fixed later.

Arthur had done it.

It was his mother's ring. He'd given it to her in the tenth year of their relationship, casually slipping it on her left index finger. When Uther saw it on her hand, he knew the relationship between his son and Gwen was truly serious and there was no separating them. It didn't stop him from secretly hoping they'd end it and Arthur could form an eternal alliance with another kingdom through marriage, but Arthur and Gwen continued to prove Uther wrong. They never married, and they didn't need to. They were husband and wife in every sense. Only an uncontrollable power could divorce them.

"You don't have to put it on," Arthur said and he pulled out a silver chain. He pulled it through the ring and held it up. "May I?"

Gwen nodded and turned around, pulling her hair out of the way. The ring rested against her skin and she held her hand to it. She turned around and lifted to her toes to kiss Arthur on the cheek. "Thank you."

Arthur's eyes seemed to shine brighter.

When they entered through the kitchen's back door, they were greeted by the smell of bacon. They found Merlin cooking breakfast (more successfully than last time).

"William brought fresh bacon!" Merlin beamed. "Oh, and fresh pig's blood."

As they were finishing, Arthur's cell phone rang and he excused himself.

"So," Merlin began casually. "I was looking around…"

"Yes?" Gwen urged him to continue as she washed the dishes.

"What'sinthatlockedroom?" Merlin blurted out.

Gwen looked at him, puzzled. They had no secret rooms or any rooms that needed to be locked. "What locked room?"

Merlin looked just as baffled. "The room that is locked?"

Gwen's brow furrowed. "Show me," she said as she grabbed a ring of keys from a drawer.

It was the library.

"Whoa," Merlin let out when he saw stack after stack filled with books. "Why would the library be locked?"

"I might have some idea." Gwen went to the windows, opening all the curtains. Sunlight beamed through and the dust glittered in the columns of light. "We have original scripts by Shakespeare. Elyan was in many of his plays. You should also check out our section on vampire lore." She heard Merlin let out another _Whoa._

She turned to him and saw him staring at awe at the steel and gold sword shining in the sun on top of the fireplace mantle. She watched Merlin walk closer, transfixed and jaw dropped.

"That's Excalibur," she said. "It's Arthur's. My father made it."

Gwen sat bored in Morgana's chambers while the festivities went on in the hall downstairs. Morgana sent Gwen up as the hour grew late. It was Arthur's birthday, and the celebration was getting rowdy and inappropriate for a twelve year old girl. Morgana told her that Arthur hated his birthday because it was the anniversary of his mother's death. He tended to sulk and drown his sorrow in blood and wine and while the rest of the court indulged themselves in celebration.

Morgana stumbled in giggling. Once she hit the bed she was out like a light. Gwen tucked her in, wine stained her dress, and she whipped away blood on the side of her lips. Morgana snuggled deep into her pillow and let out a soft snore.

Gwen grabbed a long bundle, crept out of the room and down the halls to the prince's chambers. A buxom blonde passed her, her corset not fully laced and bite on the bend of her arm. She gave Gwen a drunken sneer and kept walking.

When she reached Arthur's door, she gave a light, nervous knock.

"What now?" she heard Arthur complain as the door opened. "Oh—" He was shirtless. As he backed away from the door, he let Gwen in and went to put on a tunic. Gwen blushed at the site of him, but was also surprised by the faint scars on his back and abdomen, and the curve of what almost resembled a bite mark on his shoulder. They were wounds he sustained in his mortal life.

He pulled the shirt down and turned back to her. "What is it?" he asked harsher than intended.

She glared at him. "You've got a little something…" _Blood._ She gestured to her chin with her finger.

Arthur wiped it away with his sleeve, staining the white linen. "What's that?" he asked, pointing to the bundle in her hand with the goblet he grabbed as he plopped in a chair.

"How'd you get that scar on your shoulder?" she asked instead of answering him. "It looks like something bit you."

He unconsciously raised his hand to his chest. "It came from a Questing Beast."

Gwen's eyes widened. She had heard of them and other extinct beasts that used to prowl the land of Albion. "How are you—how did you survive a bite from a Questing Beast? They say their bite was a death sentence!"

"It was. I spent my mortal life fighting battles, leading armies, and I was taken down during a hunting trip. It's when my father decided to turn me." Arthur leaned back in his chair. "I used to beg him to turn me, and he would always say I wasn't ready. Time and time again, I would try to prove to him that I would fight for this kingdom and he'd refuse. It took me lying on my death bed from a bloody hunting accident. I would've preferred it be a sword on the battlefield. The venom should've killed me a lot quicker, but I fought as hard as I could to prove that I was strong." Arthur paused, frowning. "He waited for the last minute. He wanted to see how long I would fight even though it's impossible be cured from a Questing Beast bite.

And then he turned Morgana after she pestered him saying it wasn't fair that she had to remain human if I got to be a vampire." He poured himself more wine and took a deep gulp. "I killed my mother," he said flatly. "She gave birth to me, and I killed her."

Gwen looked at him with large sympathetic eyes. "It's not your fault. Childbirth is…difficult." She didn't know how to comfort him. She was only twelve, but evens he knew the dangers of childbirth.

"It was before father and the other kings made the deal for immortality. What if they did it earlier? He could've saved her." He snapped out of his stupor. "I'm sorry."

Gwen shook her head. "Don't be." She set the parcel on the table. "I wanted to give you this."

He unwrapped it and gasped. He lifted the sword in his hands, taking in its immaculate structure and design. It was perfectly balanced. Everything about it was perfect. "Where did you get this from?"

Gwen bit her lip before answering. "My father was a blacksmith. He made that before he died, said it was the finest sword he's ever forged," she said proudly. "He made it for you, my lord."

Arthur looked up in shock. "For me?"

Gwen nodded. "He wanted to present it to you for your birthday three years ago, but when Kanen's men raided the lower town…"

Arthur understood. "Thank you, Guinevere." He gave her a true smile, but melancholy still radiated from him. When he set the sword down after admiring it a bit longer, Gwen launched herself in his arms. Arthur was stunned for a second, looking down the top of Gwen's curly head, debating on whether or not to hug her back.

Honey brown eyes stared up at him, pleading. He could hear Morgana's voice say how no one could resist Gwen.

"Don't be sad," she said.

"Are you giving me an order?"

She gave him a big smile. "Yes!"

Arthur pouted. "You can't order me, it's my birthday!"

"Not because you're a prince?"

"That too." He finally hugged her back. "Thank you, again." He let her go and walked her to the door. "Come on. Isn't it past your bedtime?"

She scowled at him. "I'm twelve! I don't have a bedtime!"

"Uh huh," he said unconvinced. "Morgana said you get pretty grumpy in the morning when you don't get enough sleep," he teased.

Gwen's scowl turned back into a smile. "Are you sure she wasn't talking about herself?"

They laughed.

Arthur directed her out the door. "Now go, I want to play with my sword."

He blushed realizing what he said and Gwen snorted. "Goodnight, sire."

"Oh, there you two are." Arthur appeared at the library door. Merlin barely acknowledged him, still mesmerized by Excalibur.

Gwen pulled Arthur aside. "Why did you lock the door?"

Arthur looked around the room then back to her. "This is your room. You practically lived in here and the garden. That would've died if it wasn't for the Deiras."

She remembered some of their most relaxed moments in the library. They would curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace while Gwen dramatically read _Dracula_, or the countless times Arthur would find her curled up asleep with one of Shakespeare's plays on the nights she was missing Elyan when he was off on one of his adventures. And then there were the nights they wouldn't make it to the bedroom and make love in front of the fireplace.

"Well," Her hands went on her hips. "I'm here now, and when _we_ get the time, there's a lot of updating to be done, and I expect help when rearranging the stacks." Gwen gave Arthur a stern look.

"It'd be my pleasure," Arthur said genuinely. He'd build her another home just for books if she wanted. She was already planning their new future together, and at that moment, he couldn't be happier.

* * *

**A/N:** OooOooOo rekindling the romance. And Avalon is a mansion—bet none of you saw that coming kekeke but there was a lake so yeah. And what happened in America that got Gwen down? (that'll be revealed in ch. 5) The next chapter will have good times, sad times, Hunith(!), and a flashback in Henry VIII's court?

According to google maps, it takes 2hrs 44mins by car to get from London to Glastonbury. I have no idea how long it would take by horse drawn carriage. And once again, sorry for all the choppiness and blehness.

But **THANK YOU FOR READING AND REVIEWING!**


	4. Mothers

**Author's Note:** So here's the next chapter, finally! This chapter is a bit of a crossover with The Tudors with a flashback in King Henry's VIII court.

Making a bit of use with the M-rating. Nothing explicit, though. The thought of writing a love scene makes me giggle.

Also I'm glad that those of you who don't like/are unsure about vampire stories are giving this a chance/like it and I hope you stay onboard with the story. :D

**Chapter 4:** Mothers

Merlin finally looked away from Excalibur. "Right—so, since both of you are here, I might as well ask now..."

"What is it, Merlin?" Arthur asked interested in what he had to say. Merlin could clearly see that his boss was in better spirits.

"Tomorrow's Christmas Eve," he thought to remind them. He had planned to go to his mother's and bring Arthur with him like he did every year. He didn't want to ruin the reunion, but he needed to leave, and there was only one car. "You know what, I'll call a taxi."

Realization flashed across Arthur's face. "Oh, right," he looked at Guinevere. "Tell Hunith I'm sorry that I couldn't make it."

Gwen looked back and forth between them. "Hunith?"

"My mum," Merlin said. He could feel his face automatically spread in a wide grin as it did whenever he spoke of his mother. "I go to hers every year. I've been dragging Arthur along since we met. He would always get mope—" He stopped when Arthur glared at him.

Gwen looked guilty. "I don't want to ruin your tradition," she said to him and then to Arthur, "I'll be fine here."

Merlin didn't know much about Gwen, but if she's spent fifteen hundred years with Arthur, then she's bound to pick up some of his habits. Self-isolation being one of them. He now knew that Avalon was where Arthur went to get away, and imagining him alone in the mansion with his thoughts, haunted by memories rather than cherishing them…Well, he felt sad just thinking about Gwen doing the same.

"I'll ring her and tell her you're coming too, Gwen," he said.

Gwen shook her head. "No, I couldn't. I don't want to impose."

But Merlin already had his phone out. "Oh, she'll love to have another girl around!" He dialed with excitement.

* * *

The door opened before Merlin could put the key in the lock. His mother beamed at them with her arms wide open.

"My boys! Come in, come in." Hunith ushered Arthur and Merlin inside.

Gwen remained on the other side of the threshold, unsure of what to do or say. "And you must be Gwen," Hunith said reaching for her. Hunith's hands were warm and inviting and smelled of sugar cookies. She gave Gwen a comforting smile. "Please come in and out of this cold," she said and gently guided her inside.

Hunith's tone confused Gwen. She wasn't sure if Hunith knew she was a vampire and couldn't enter without an invite, or if she was just being polite. Arthur answered her unspoken questions when he said, "Hunith knows about the whole vampire-thing."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Hunith said genuinely. When she let go of her hands, Gwen immediately missed the motherly touch. Hunith went back to the kitchen to put another batch of cookies in the oven and clear up the mess. As she walked away she called over her shoulder, "The first time Merlin brought Arthur home he blurted, '_ARTHUR'S A VAMPIRE!_' in the middle of dinner."

"And how did you react?" Gwen asked.

Hunith quickly wiped away the scraps of cookie dough and sprinkles. "I've known Gaius since I was a little girl. He's my great, great, great…Well, you get the point—he's my uncle. My whole family has kept the vampires secret. I was always meaning to tell Merlin when I thought he was old enough, but he went off to school, and there was never a good time to tell him." When she was done and checked the oven timer, she joined them back in the living room. "Imagine if I didn't? What a situation that would be," she chuckled to herself.

After dinner, Hunith showed Gwen the photo albums, much to Merlin's embarrassment. Gwen let out an _aw_ at the adorable picture of a little Merlin dressed as King Henry VIII. His class had a project to present on the kings and queens of England. His beard was cut out of construction paper, and his costume was stuffed to the point that he was spherical.

"Henry was quite fit in his youth," Gwen said and Arthur snorted.

"You knew Henry VIII?" Merlin's eyes were wide. "You never said!"

Hunith laughed. "If only you were around when Merlin was in school. He couldn't remember the names of his wives for the life of him."

"There were too many Catherines!"

"There were only three," Arthur said nonchalantly.

"Three too many!" Merlin argued.

The argument went on for several minutes until Gwen spotted an acoustic guitar in the corner and asked Hunith if she played.

"I got it from an old neighbor who was moving. Her arthritis was pretty bad, and she couldn't really play anymore, so she gave it to me. I thought about learning how to play, but I haven't got around to it. Do you play?" Hunith said as she retrieved the guitar.

Gwen nodded. "May I?" Hunith handed it to Gwen, and she plucked the strings and tuned it.

"When did you learn to play?" she heard Arthur ask her as she concentrated on the instrument.

"Haight-Ashbury, 1967," she said, then tilted her head to the side. "Or was it '68?"

"You don't strike me as a hippie, Gwen," Merlin said eagerly, wanting to know more.

"I wasn't. Morgana…she was into all of that. I needed something to do while she had her…_fun_." Gwen hated being in San Francisco during that era. The Summer of Love, flower power, the drugs—she hated it. Especially the drugs. The first time she drank from a hippie on acid, not only did she vomit, but she thought she was expelling rainbows. Another one she drank from was so stoned, his blood tasted like cotton and her whole body seemed to shut down. The tainted blood would send her into a feeding frenzy. She needed to cleanse her system, and it usually resulted in her hunting down the most conservative people, usually mothers (given away by their disapproving looks at the hippies) that passed her on the street. With her senses heightened astronomically from the bloodlust, she could smell their clean blood and underlying scent of household cleaners a mile away.

Gwen caught Arthur smirking at her. "What?"

"You wore flowers in your hair, though, didn't you?" he said.

She smiled smugly back at him. "I do believe I was doing it a long before that." They shared a look as they both thought of the happier times.

She turned her attention back to the guitar and began to strum "I'll Be Home for Christmas" and hummed along. Merlin picked up on it and began to sing. Gwen smiled and sang along. Arthur and Hunith sat in admiration as they watched the most important people n their lives sing in harmony.

* * *

The guest bedroom was warm and cozy. The sleeping situation hadn't occurred to Gwen until that very moment they entered the room. Staring at the bed, she tried to hide her nerves. "Still sleep on the left?"

Arthur gave her a small smile.

They settled in the bed on their respected sides. Eighty years ago they would've been wrapped around each other within minutes. Arthur would've pulled her to his side or he'd find his way to hers. More often than not, they'd end up in the middle. The heavy silence weighed on both of them as they lay on their backs staring at the ceiling like to strangers sharing a bed, or an old married couple.

Arthur brought up Gwen's previous comment about Henry's physique, breaking the silence. "So, you thought Henry was fit?"

"But his attitude made him extremely unattractive," she said casually.

"Our time in Henry's court wasn't the best time for us, was it?" Arthur asked quietly.

"Not as bad as now," Gwen answered.

Arthur, Gwen, and Morgana, arrived in King Henry VIII's court to collect a debt. One of the many ways they kept their riches was to loan money to crown. The return payments have been few and far between, so Uther sent them to London to stay at court until the debt was paid. The Pendragons always supported the royal family, who never knew it was just the four of them and not multiple generations. When Henry held a feast for them in honor of their arrival, he called them the crown's greatest supporters.

The feast started with a theatrical, provocative, sensual dance with masks and light clothing. It was borderline scandalous. The Pendragons watched with the king and queen at the head table. After the rest of the court joined in, the dancing changed to more courtly routines and the wine flowed. Gwen had a delightful conversation with Queen Catherine of Aragon while the king spoke with Arthur and Morgana.

Queen Catherine's eyes occasionally drifted to her husband, and when they settled for longer than her previous glances, Gwen followed her gaze. "Lady Morgana is your mistress, and Lord Arthur is your husband. I am surprised their father would allow you two to marry," Catherine said, curious.

Gwen didn't have a problem with lying, they made up many tales about their lives for nearly a thousand years, but Gwen never felt comfortable with lying about her background. She didn't want to be Lady Guinevere Leodegrance from some great family. She just wanted to be Gwen, daughter of Tom the blacksmith; "wife" of Arthur and companion to Morgana.

"He fought to be with me," she said observing the Queen. She stood tall and regal, her black hair flowing straight down and golden crown contrasting on top.

"Your mistress, she is very beautiful." Catherine's eyes were very sad. Gwen looked back to the king and the Pendragon siblings. Henry's eyes lingered lustfully on Morgana.

"Your daughter," Gwen said out of the blue, pulling Catherine's attention away from her worry. "I would very much like to meet her."

To that, Catherine smiled.

Gwen returned to the chambers she shared with Arthur after helping Morgana settle in. She found Arthur already reclined in the tub in front of the fireplace, his arms draped lazily over the sides, and his head back with a warm cloth covering his face. Illuminated by the flames, his skin glowed warmly and the steam rose invitingly.

She bit her lip, aroused by the sight, and slipped out of her gown and shift. As she stepped into the tub and straddled him, Arthur's lips curved into a pleased smile.

"I knew I heard the sound of silk hitting the floor," he said, not bothering to move anything but his mouth.

Gwen took the cloth from his face so he could see her pout. "You started without me."

He chuckled and leaned forward to peck her on the lips. "You took too long."

She felt his lower half stir against her, and brought her hands to his shoulders and raised herself, supporting her weight on her knees. "This court…" she said lowly bringing her face close to his.

"What about this court?" Arthur asked bright-eyed and grinning, waiting for her to continue.

She moved closer. "There's something about it."

He held eye contact while his hands trailed down her back, to her hips and under the water, teasing her. "Oh really?"

"_Mmm. _There's something about it," she repeated, brushing her nose with his before bringing her lips a hair's breadth away. Her grip on his shoulders tightened and her breathing quickened as he stroked her. "Something…_erotic,_" she said in a husky whisper, and then gasped in pleasure as Arthur slid into her and claimed her lips hungrily.

It was several months into their stay when things began to change. Arthur had to leave for nearly four weeks to return to France where his father was staying to work with the vampire king of France and their Authority and required Arthur's assistance.

There was a flutter in Gwen's chest; she felt Arthur coming down the hall. He said he wanted to surprise her when he returned, but his projected excitement alerted her.

Just as she rounded the changing screen, Arthur came through the door. They made their way to each other in haste, but Gwen stopped short.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Arthur asked, worried.

He'd grown a beard. He always shaved before the stubble grew thick. She made him. The last time she saw him with a beard, they were staying with the Viking vampires in Sweden. His hair grew longer, and he blended right in with them. "It's freezing," he'd complain as his hair grew out. She couldn't take it, and made him shave. "Never again," she ordered.

"_What is that?"_ She stared intently at the dark blond hair on his chin.

Arthur nervously laughed. "A hello would've sufficed."

He tried to kiss her but she pushed him away. "Not while _that_ is on your face."

"You don't think it makes me look kingly?" He smirked and stroked the beard until she glared at him. Defeated, Arthur changed out of his travel clothes and prepared to shave. Gwen could make out the pout behind the facial hair. She giggled and sat him down. "Here, let me."

She spread the lather over the offending hair, and Arthur gave a jolt. "_Cold!"_

"You can feel it through that…boar's hair."

"_Boar's hair?!"_

Gwen pulled out the razor and gave him a teasing smile, waving the blade around. "Now, no more sudden movements."

When she was done, she wiped away the remains of the shaving cream and plopped herself in Arthur's lap. "There, that's better." She kissed his neck and along his smooth jaw, and when she reached his lips, he was about to meet her when a sudden mental tug pulled her back.

"Morgana need's me," she said. Arthur grumbled as he slid off his lap. She righted her skirts and gave him an apologetic smile. "I'll make it up to you."

Morgana wasn't summoning Gwen from her chambers. She followed the call to an unfamiliar part of the castle. The tapestries became more luxurious, and the halls wider as she went further. She also passed more guards. The pull got stronger when she saw a door at the end of the hall. Two guards stopped her before she got closer.

"What is your business in the king's quarters," one of the guards said.

Gwen closed her eyes and silently cursed. When she opened them, she held both their gazes, looking back and forth between them with equal intent. "I've been summoned. You will let me through."

Compelled, both guards nodded in a daze and let her pass. She knocked on the door and heard Morgana say "Come in. _Hurry!_"

When she reached the bedchamber, the first thing she saw was Morgana struggling the tie her corset from the back. Then she saw movement to her left. The king was dressed only in his sleeping shorts and on his knees in the middle of the bed. He was staring pleadingly at Morgana.

Gwen quickly looked away. "Your majesty," she curtsied. When she stood straight, she rushed to Morgana to help her dress. "What happened," she harshly whispered.

"He proposed," Morgana whispered back over her shoulder.

"_What?"_

Henry crawled to the end of the bed to be closer to them. "My love!" he said to Morgana. "I don't know why you bother getting dressed, when I'm just going to—"

"_Your majesty!" _Morgana interrupted."I cannot be your queen."

"Oh, but you can. And you will bear me beautiful sons!" He reached out a hand to her.

Gwen tightened Morgana's corset a little harder than necessary and Morgana gave a small _oof _before she loosened it. When she finished, Morgana turned around.

"During…_you know_…we were making eye contact, and I may have said 'make me your queen' or something along those lines," she sheepishly admitted.

"And why haven't you…" Gwen waved her hands around looking for the right word. "Uncompelled him," she settled on.

"_I did!"_

"Did you mean it?"

Morgana was silent, trying to formulate an excuse. "I tried! I swear! But imagine—_Me,_ Queen of England. The thought kept echoing in my mind. I couldn't help it."

Gwen took a deep breath and turned to the king. "Your majesty," Gwen said firmly looking down at Henry. As he looked up at her, his eyes glazed over."You cannot make the Lady Morgana your queen."

"No?" he pouted, and Gwen thought he and Arthur should have a pouting contest. Who's the biggest baby: the King of England or the thousand year old Prince of Camelot?

"No. You have a queen already."

"Oh, right, Catherine," Henry said dully.

"You will not forget your time with Lady Morgana, but it _cannot happen_ again," she finished. Henry nodded heavily, having no real control over the motion.

Gwen shut the door behind them, and Morgana looped their arms. "Thank you for getting me out of that."

Gwen smiled at her maker. "If it's any consolation, I think you would make a wonderful queen," she said, masking her disappointment in Morgana. They walked down the corridor. The guards ignored them, compelled to forget they were there. "Don't worry, I won't tell Arthur." _Or Catherine_. She'd grown quite close to the queen. She wished she could compel Henry into loving Catherine, but that wouldn't be fair to the queen. She deserved better.

Morgana thanked her again. "Henry's face, though!" They burst out laughing. The early risers gave the lady and her companion looks which they ignored.

Gwen always found it hard to hate because she always tried to see the good in everyone, but she hated King Henry and Anne Boleyn. Anne's seduction and Henry's infatuation caused the chaotic battle to annul his marriage to Catherine and her and Mary's exile.

Gwen wanted to support the exiled queen as she fought back against Henry and the annulment, but couldn't because it would risk the Pendragon's relationship with the royal family, and whoever supported Catherine ended up in the tower. She detested the way Henry treated Catherine and Mary, especially when he separated them. When Catherine was on her death bed, Gwen couldn't take it. She snuck away in the night and brought Mary to her, so Catherine could spend her final moments with her daughter. Catherine wasted her last breaths dictating a letter to Henry, a letter Gwen delivered it to the king personally.

"_Queen _Catherine is dead, your majesty," Gwen said coldly and handed him the letter. She didn't wait for his reaction and walked away without being dismissed. She heard him crying, but she was unsure if it was out of genuine grief or relief.

The delight on Anne Boleyn's face was painfully obvious.

Gwen knew there would be consequence for seeing Catherine and Mary, and most of all calling Catherine queen, but she had not anticipated Arthur's reaction. He stormed into their chambers after speaking with Henry. He shouted at her.

"Are you out of your mind? Going against the king is treason. He could have you killed!" A broken neck from the gallows is a quick fix, decapitation—a little difficult to come back from.

"She was my _friend_, Arthur! And how could he separate mother and child? _His_ child! Did you know he threatened Mary with _death!_ He would dote on Mary before Anne Boleyn came. And how—_how_ could he not allow Catherine to see her own daughter before she died?" Gwen said passionately. "What kind of man threatens his own child's life? All this because he wanted to marry that _whore!_ And just wait until he pulls the same thing on her when she doesn't bare him a son and grows tired of her."

"You don't understand—"

"I don't understand? I have been with you for a thousand years, and _I_ don't understand the ways of monarchs?!" Gwen was hysterical.

Arthur came closer trying to reason with her. "That's not what I meant—"

_Crack!_

Gwen smacked him hard across the cheek, and Arthur's head whipped to the side. He could've stopped her, she knew, even if she didn't know she was going to hit him until it happened. Because he let her do it. It happened so quick, but when her hand slid across her his cheek, her nails scratched him, and three horizontal lines dripped blood down his cheek.

When Arthur turned his head back to her, the wound was already beginning to heal. He didn't look at her in shock or anger, only concern. When he tried to get close to her again, she pushed him back. _"No!" _she screamed.

He tried again. "Guinevere—"

She tried shoving him again, but he caught her arm and pulled her to him and enveloped her in his arms. She pounded against his chest, sobbing.

"We can't get involved in their politics. It's not our business," he said quietly in her ear. "We need to let the humans make their own choices, mistakes." He sounded weary. "I know you loved Catherine, but…" he struggled with his words. "Christ, Guinevere. Henry was furious. I had to compel him to calm down. And his threats against you—I almost committed treason."

Gwen had stopped struggling as she listened to him. She wanted to save Catherine, heal her even if it meant revealing herself. She wanted to give her more time with Mary. "She didn't deserve this. Mary didn't deserve this," she murmured. Henry didn't deserve Catherine's love. She felt Arthur kiss the top of her head and hold her tighter.

Anne Boleyn announced she was pregnant after Catherine's death. It was her third pregnancy. Her second one ended in a miscarriage. She was being extra careful physically, but mentally, she was very paranoid, going crazy thinking about Henry's possible affairs. She called Morgana and Gwen to join her for lunch one afternoon. They both knew she was sifting through the ladies in court, trying to find Henry's mistress.

Anne sat back straight in her chair with her hands resting on her swelling stomach. "And when will you marry, Lady Morgana? Surely you have suitors lined up," she said, her eyes calculating, unknown to her that Morgana already had her way with Henry.

"My dear father doesn't think anyone is good enough for his little princess," Morgana lied through her teeth.

They gave each other false smiles. Then Anne asked Gwen, "And when do you think you will provide Lord Arthur with an heir?" She rubbed her stomach to emphasize her question.

Gwen and Morgana shared a look before Gwen addressed her. "I can't have children," she said frankly. Procreation was a sacrifice for the gift of immortality. They could grant new life, not create it.

"Pity," was all Anne said, her tone flat and unsympathetic, and her eyes judging.

A week later, Anne suffered another miscarriage after catching Henry in a passionate embrace with her lady-in-waiting, Jane Seymour.

Gwen brushed her hair at the vanity absentmindedly, and Arthur watched her from the bed.

"Guinevere."

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong?"

She abandoned the brushing and joined him, curling into his side. "Have you ever wondered what your life would've been like if you were human? What your princess would've looked like? Your heir?" In all their time together, she's never thought to ask him.

"No," he said quickly without thinking.

Gwen looked up at him and he tucked a strand behind her ear. "No?"

"Being vampire is the best thing to have happened to me because I found you," he said caressing her cheek. "As lovely as the thought is of having a child with my good looks and your grace and wisdom, I wouldn't ask for my life to be any different."

She could've married the baker's son who fancied her. She could've bore his children and lived a humble life. She could've grown old with her baker husband and watched her children build families of their own. Or she could've died of illness, or from childbirth, watch one of her children be claimed before their time. What if Arthur hadn't found her? What if they didn't fall in love? If she didn't turn?

"Do you ever regret leaving your human life behind?" he asked her.

"Never." She rolled on her back and rested a hand on her flat stomach. "It's just childbearing…it's such a big part of life, of being a woman. The _queen_ said it was a pity that I couldn't conceive."

Arthur sighed. "That's what this is all about? When did you start caring about what she had to say?"

Gwen shut her eyes and inhaled. Anne Boleyn's stony face stared back at her, thin lips in a permanent sneer. Her mouth doesn't move, but she could hear the _pity._ Gwen exhaled, opened her eyes, and her fingers spread over her abdomen. "She made me feel…less like a woman."

Arthur covered Gwen's hand with his and slid it down her stomach to between her thighs. Gwen arched into the touch as their fingers pressed through her nightdress. "You feel very much like a woman to me," Arthur said cheekily. He pulled his hand away and rolled on top of her, supporting his weight on his arms so he didn't crush her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him down wanting to feel him against her. "I just want to give you everything," she muttered into his neck.

"All I need is you, my Guinevere."

* * *

The long lost sound of Arthur's snoring woke Gwen. She turned on her other side and watched his chest rise and fall. She wanted to lay her head on him, wrap herself around him as their breathing falls in sync.

Gwen slipped out of the bed instead and found Hunith in the living room. "Join me," Hunith said patting the couch. "I'm surprised you didn't come out sooner. Arthur's been going at it for a while. The first time he was here, I was shocked awake. It sounded like…"

"A pig had gotten in," Gwen finished for her.

"Yes! Exactly!"

Gwen settled on the other corner of the couch, and pulled her knees up to her chest. "I got used to it after the first hundred years."

"To be with one person for so long is incredible," Hunith commended. "But fifteen hundred years…"

They had filled Hunith in on their story, and Gwen had once again skipped over the grisly details of the last eighty years. Would Hunith look at her differently if she knew what she had done? She had only told Arthur about tearing out the dancer's heart. And that was only scratching the surface.

Hunith looked at Gwen with concern. "What is it child? Oh goodness me, calling you child when your older than me."

Gwen wanted to laugh. She tried to offer a smile but tears only welled in her eyes. "I've done horrible things. I don't think I can be who I used to be," she blurted out.

Hunith seemed unfazed. "Has he said anything?"

"He keeps telling me that everything will be okay, that he will stay with me, love me, no matter what. But what I've done…it's changed me. What if I can't be that girl he fell in love with?" Gwen asked worriedly.

"You mustn't worry so much, Gwen," Hunith said giving her a reassuring smile. The lamp light highlighted her wise and kind eyes. "You didn't stay a humble serving girl for a millennium, did you?"

Gwen shook her head, frowning.

"Right," Hunith nodded. "Because you've changed with the times, and so has Arthur, I presume. And no matter how your opinions or manners changed, your love for each other never wavered. I bet there's nothing you could do or say that would make Arthur love you less. And once you can free yourself of your doubts, you'll be able to love again with all your heart."

Gwen was overwhelmed by the advice. Hunith moved closer to Gwen and wrapped her in her arms, humming a tune. "My mother would do the same when I was upset. It's one of the few things I remember about her." Gwen murmured, gripping at the ring hanging from her neck with her index finger partially through it. "What's it like being a mother?"

"It's like a reward," Hunith said simply.

"What happened to Merlin's father, if you don't mind me asking?" She heard Hunith's heart rate increase, and she regretted asking, but Hunith answered.

"He was killed by vampires. I never told Merlin."

Gwen stiffened in the woman's arms. "It's okay," Hunith told her. "I don't hate all vampires, obviously. And I know that even if they have done things they are ashamed of, whether it's their fault or not, they can still love and be loved."

The snoring had stopped when Gwen finally returned to the room, and Arthur was lying on his side facing her. She watched him and how innocent he looked. When her eyes fell closed, and she was back in Henry's court.

Gwen liked Jane Seymour, and was surprised by Henry's change in demeanor. She was good for him. It didn't last long though, as giving birth had claimed her life. Henry mourned and married again. Poor Anne of Cleves, a victim of Henry's vanity. Gwen thought she was lovely, too.

Another Christmas feast came, and Gwen stared at Henry on the throne.

"You've never had a wandering eye, my love. Should I be worried?" Arthur asked.

Gwen turned back to him and whispered in his ear. "The king is going grey."

Age was catching up. They had to leave soon. Thankfully the debt had been paid off. Their life was a constant move; disappear when those around you grew old. Return when a new generation takes over.

Gwen's last memory of Henry's court was passing Charles Brandon, the king's best friend, escorting a young Catherine Howard. "Your grace," Gwen greeted him. She looked from him to Catherine Howard. They were headed in the direction of the King's chambers. Brandon's face practically read, "She's for the king" She shook her head and walked on.

Arthur, Gwen, and Morgana went to an old manor they had in Wales to recover from the lifestyle of Henry's court, and took their time planning their next move. They heard of Catherine Howard's execution and Henry's final marriage to Catherine of Parr, and left it at that. Just thinking about court brought on a headache. Leaving was a well deserved break for Arthur. The time he spent on Henry's council wore him out. "I know I was stubborn as a prince in a time different than this, but I would make a better king than Henry," Arthur said. If it wasn't for having to get up to drink blood, Arthur probably would've slept for a century. Either way, Gwen would be by his side when he woke.

When they started sharing a bed, Gwen noticed something interesting about Arthur's sleeping positions. He snored only on his back and when on his side, he'd face away from the window. But if the window was on the right side of the bed, he would not turn away, but instead, he'd bury his face into her neck and curls and use her as a shield from the encroaching sunlight.

Just like he was doing now.

If this had happened before she spoke to Hunith, she would've thought to ease Arthur back to his side of the bed, or wiggle out of his hold and go back to the living room. But now she surrounded herself in the comfort of that familiar weight on her side and fell back to sleep. This time, it was dreamless.

* * *

On the anniversary of their separation, Arthur suffered from a variation of the same nightmare: Eighty different ways Gwen could be taken from him. That night, he anticipated the eighty first scenario, but it never came. Instead, he woke to the sound of birds chirping and sun creeping through curtains. He groaned and buried his head into his pillow. He crinkled his nose and sniffed. His pillow tickled and smelled of lavender. It was Gwen.

Just because Arthur preferred to sleep on the left, didn't mean he stayed there. In Gwen's absence, his migration to the right side increased, subconsciously hoping he'd wake up with his arms around her. He'd say it was like Christmas if it wasn't actually Christmas. Resisting the urge to snuggle back up to her, Arthur got up and quietly got ready for the day. When he came out of the en suite, Gwen was pulling a change of clothes out of her suitcase. "All yours," he said and shifted uncomfortably under the look she was giving him. He would understand if he was standing naked in front of her, but he was fully dressed.

"I don't think I'll ever get use to you waking up before me," Gwen said.

He relaxed. "Well, maybe one day things will get back to normal."

"One day," she smiled at him before frowning down at her suitcase.

"Guinevere?"

"This was sort of my…emergency bag…" she trailed off.

Her toiletries where travel sized and her clothes were simple. Even though the last time he saw her, the clothing was of a different era, he knew she had an eye for fashion, especially now, judging by the clothes she was wearing the night she returned. He saw her throw away those clothes and shoes. He didn't ask questions, but they smelled faintly of blood. "If you need more things, I can give you my card—"

"I'm not taking your money," Gwen declined. Arthur knew she would. She never liked taking what she could work for.

"Well you plan on working for the Authority again, am I right?" he asked and she nodded. "Well consider this payment in advance," he reasoned.

She looked at the plain clothing again with disinterest. She gave in.

* * *

Gwaine's pub, like many vampire-owned establishments, it was hidden in plain sight and overlooked by humans. On the outside, it looked like an old flat on the outside with peeling paint and shutters, but on the inside it was a refurbished pub.

"So Elyan, Gwen's your sister?" Lance asked casually. Now he knew why she was reluctant to tell him her age. She was more than a millennium older than him. "You said 'you found her.' What did that mean?"

Gwaine joined the table, letting Gilli take over the bar. "Didn't you know she was with Morgana?"

Elyan, Percival, and Leon looked at each other. At the Authority, they only discussed Morgana's organized attack. At that time, it seemed the more important to discuss the present than the last eighty years. "I guess we should start from the beginning." Elyan told the story.

"They had a fifteen hundred year long blood bond," Lance said, astonished and disgusted by what Morgana did to break it. When Gwen introduced them in Paris, he wouldn't have suspected.

"No wonder she never batted an eyelash at me," said Gwaine. "It also explains why the princess gets moodier than usual around the holiday." Suddenly Gwaine did a full body shake.

They looked at him confused. "Are you alright, mate?" Percival asked.

Gwaine's face contorted in disgust. "Morgana's…touched me…"

"It didn't seem to bother you earlier," Leon said.

"Yeah, but that was before I knew the full story," Gwaine's face looked more pained the more he thought about it. "I feel dirty."

Elyan, Lance, Leon, and Percival laughed at Gwaine's turmoil and enjoyed their drinks until a commotion broke out.

"…ires are the supreme being…!"

"…umans will bow down…!"

"…gana promises this…!"

They saw a skeevey looking vampire riling up the others. What he was preaching was getting mixed reactions, but the fact that some where agreeing was unsettling. Gwaine muttered a curse and marched up to the preaching vampire, pulled him up by the collar and slammed his head into the table knocking him out. "Not in my bar," Gwaine said eerily calm.

He looked around the room. The patrons settled down, the ones that may have been agreeing were extremely quiet, probably second guessing their decision to cheer. "Anyone else got something to say?" Gwaine challenged. Elyan, Percival, Lance, and Leon stood firmly behind him.

"I think he was full of shite," an old vampire said from the corner and went back to his drink.

Gwaine pulled out his phone. "We've got a situation."

* * *

Christmas morning at Hunith's was always the same, but always enjoyable. Hunith insisted they don't exchange gifts because them being there was enough. The first Christmas morning, the boys tried helping her make Christmas-themed pancakes, and after a near disaster, she banished them from the stove forever.

Gwen, on the other hand, was trusted at the stove. Arthur watched as she tried to salvage the wonky shape of what was supposed to be a gingerbread man. When she flipped it, the leg fell off and she collapsed in a fit of giggles.

After their breakfast of headless snowmen, amputated gingerbread men, and burnt Christmas trees, they played Christmas-themed Scrabble. In the middle of the game, Arthur excused himself from the table when his phone rang.

"All work and no play makes Arthur a dull vamp," Merlin jeered. Then he gave a theatrical sigh and pouted at the board. "It's your turn, too. Now we have to wait." He was anxiously eyeing a triple word spot, praying Arthur didn't take the space.

Fifteen minutes passed and Arthur was still on the phone. Gwen tried listening in. He was talking in a quick, hushed tone. She heard, "Hold him," and "I'll be there." When he finally returned, he looked at her with a grim face.

"Guinevere, have you heard of a vampire named Trickler."

* * *

**A/N: **Sooooo in my head, the drama in Henry's court was supposed to be more dramatic, but it all went to mush. Sorry if it threw anyone off. The next chapter will make more sense, I promise!

And I know Merlin just seems like a comic-relief right now, but his time will come soon.

And there will be no supernatural pregnancy. Gwen is not going to magically conceive a child. Not happening. Nope.

**THANKS ALWAYS** for reading and reviewing!


	5. Compelling and Changes

**Author's Note: **Does four days count as a quick update for 5,000+ words? I really wanted to get this out because I had ideas for chapter 6 before I finished thinking about chapter 5, and ideas for this chapter were already in my brain before chapter 4. And I'm thinking of a sequel? Gotta get to the end first.

Anywhooo…This chapter features a badass(?) Gwen. (or I hope you think she comes across as badass and not mary-sue considering she has 1500 years of life experience and what she's been through and this isn't Twilight or TVD and I'm going to stop before I add 1000 words on my hate for teen paranormal romance)

And finally, another character is introduced.

**/end rambly note**

**Chapter 5:** Compelling and Changes

When Arthur and Morgana presented Gwen to Uther for the first time, she stared up at the king with wide, frightened eyes. His presence demanded respect, and many cowered at the sight of him. Gwen's eyes flickered to the scar on his forehead, a permanent and defining feature.

"Rumor has it, it's from a dragon," the children of the lower town would say. The tale of Uther Pendragon's scare was a popular debate.

"Don't be stupid. A dragon claw could chop a head off," an older one would say. "It came from a griffin."

Gwen thought Uther might as well be a dragon. With his temper, it was surprising that he didn't breathe fire.

"What's this?" Uther stared down at her. She felt smaller than she was. Standing between Arthur and Morgana, she clutched their hands in fear. It did little to calm her, though. She could feel the siblings' nerves radiating on both sides of her.

"This is Gwen. Arthur found her on patrol and brought her to me," Morgana said ready to take on Uther.

Uther's eyes focused on Arthur. "You brought a child to give to Morgana?"

Arthur stiffened. "W-well when you say it like that—"

"A human, especially a child, is not a _pet!_" Uther's voice boomed.

"Of course not!" the siblings said in unison. "She's alone. I couldn't just leave her," Arthur said.

"So you brought her here?" Uther asked slowly.

"After he at my rabbit," Gwen spoke up. Her voice was small but it silenced Uther. It silenced the whole throne room. Gwen let go of their hands and stepped forward. "He was wounded and starving. He could've eaten me instead, my lord. But he didn't and he saved me. And my lord and lady have shown me nothing but kindness." She fidgeted under Uther's gaze as he remained silent. "And I will work my hardest to show my gratitude, that is, if his majesty allows me to stay."

The room remained silent as they waited for the king to speak. He studied Gwen a moment longer, and then snapped his gaze to his children. "You two can learn a thing or two from her."

Arthur and Morgana looked to each other then back to their father. "So…can I keep her?" Morgana asked hesitantly and cringed at her choice of words.

"She's your responsibility," Uther said sternly and dismissed them.

During a council meeting three weeks later, a tabby cat darted out of the servants' entrance and into the room. All heads turned toward the cat and then Gwen who came out running after it. She scooped up the feline and smiled nervously at her audience.

Uther cleared his throat and Arthur rose ready to defend Gwen even though he was confused as to why she was chasing the animal.

"What is the meaning of this?" the king asked harshly.

"Sir Purrs-a-Lot was running from his bath time," Gwen said meekly. One of the members repeated the name to himself and chuckled.

Uther eyed his son with a raised eyebrow. "You gave her a pet?"

Arthur didn't know about the cat, but now that he thought about it, Gwen and Morgana were being a little secretive lately. "No, I didn't." He looked down at Gwen and wished he hadn't when she looked back with big innocent eyes. "You can't…have…"

"I'll keep him out of trouble, I promise! It was just that he was so tired of being cooped up in my lady's chambers and…" Gwen rambled on about how Sir Purrs-a-Lot managed to slip away.

Geoffrey, one of Uther's most trusted advisors cleared his throat. "I don't see the trouble in letting the girl have a pet, sire."

Uther couldn't see a reason either, it was only a cat. "Don't let this happen again," he said to Gwen. His order sounded half-hearted, scolding her gently. He seemed to be growing fond of the tiny human.

Gwen bowed while still holding the cat, and then bounded out the room as quickly as she could without unsettling Sir Purrs-a-Lot. The whole council seemed to be uplifted by the interlude as the meeting went on in a livelier manner. Later, Arthur went to Morgana's chambers and asked, "Why didn't you tell me about the cat?" watching Gwen entertain the feline with an old pair of Morgana's shiny, dangling earrings.

"We were afraid you'd develop at taste for household pets," Morgana joked.

Sir Purrs-a-Lot became a well love pet in the castle. He'd relax on the high shelves of the library, occasionally giving Geoffrey a fright, and the old librarian would laugh afterwards. If he was in the same room with Uther, the king would pet it voluntarily and affectionately. And the cat would keep Arthur company when he was bored to death reading documents in his chambers.

Arthur threw down the parchment and flopped back in his chair. He lolled his head to the side to see Sir Purrs-a-Lot curled in the cushioned basket next to his desk. The cat looked up at him with bored, slit eyes and yawned. "You and me both," Arthur said.

Just then, Gwen entered. In the five years she's been living in the castle, Arthur's learned that no matter how she changed, the look she had on her face whenever she (rarely) asked for something stayed the same. She was no longer a child; the baby fat was gone from her cheeks , and she was looking more like a young woman every day, but when she smiled nervously with those sweet innocent eyes, whatever she was about to say, Arthur was going to say yes.

"So, I found a dog…"

* * *

The Roaring Twenties is what they called it. Art, jazz, and high spirits all around. Arthur and Leon walked down the sidewalk, on their way home from the Authority after a late meeting. The night was buzzing with energy; music and joyous (and drunken) laughter could be heard from the buildings they passed. A pair of giggling flappers passed them, blushing when they were caught looking.

Leon looked back and one of the girls was still staring him. She winked. "You know, these new fashions for woman nowadays aren't so bad. I don't see what the fuss is about."

"Could you imagine girls with those hairstyles back in our day? It's probably because we've been around for so long that change isn't that shocking," Arthur said.

Tipping their hats to each other in goodbye, they went their separate ways. Arthur entered the townhouse, and called out to Gwen when he didn't see her but sensed her. "Sorry I'm late, love. The meeting…"

He lost his train of thought when Gwen stepped out. Woman's clothing had become lighter, and more revealing in the last twenty years. He loved seeing Gwen swish around in beaded dresses and her shoulders bare, enjoying the unrestricting clothing. If she's happy, he's happy. There was nothing scandalous about happy women.

But his eyes were locked on her hair. When she let down her hair at night, it fell down her back in dark chocolate ringlets. Now, her hair was short and sculpted in finger waves, curls strategically placed and framing her face

"Do you like it?" Gwen said, hesitant. She held her arms stiffly at her sides, her hands curled into fist waiting for his answer.

"It's…" Arthur stared. "…different."

Her fist unclenched and she flattened her palms against the sides of her thighs. The beads of her dress swayed, clinking against each other for a second. "You don't like it."

"No!" he said quickly and rushed to her, placing his arms on his upper arms and held her at arm's length. "It's different, it's lovely."

"'_Lovely.'_ You hate it," she frowned.

With her hair cropped short, and the curls styled against her face, her cheekbones were highlighted and the angles of her heart-shaped face were more prominent.

"You're beautiful," he said. "Always."

The morning after, Arthur felt Gwen stir next to him and sit up. He groaned, digging his head deeper into the pillow. He cracked an eye open and saw the blurry silhouette of Gwen stretching. He rolled on his back opening his other eye and watched her. She stretched her arms over her head, yawning. The sheet pooled at her waist and her bob was tussled. Without her long hair, he had an excellent view, and new appreciation for her back. He brought up his hand and stroked her from the nape of her neck, down her spine, caressing the silky skin. She arched when he reached the ticklish spot of her lower back. She gave him a playful smile over her shoulder.

He sat up, wrapping his arms around her, and pulled her back to him. He kissed along her shoulder and nuzzled her neck. He liked not having to constantly push her hair out the way. He nipped at her skin. Yes, he definitely liked the change.

* * *

"Trickler," Gwen said in distain. "Is a low-life drug dealer who was turned in the 80s. He'll compel someone into buying his drugs, get them high out of their mind, and drain them or turn them. And that's not all he does. Morgana adopted him into our group."

If it wasn't the "We have a situation" that worried Arthur, it was the tone of Gwaine's voice. When he described what happened and learned the name Trickler from one of the patrons who overheard his name being said, he had to ask Gwen. The hate he heard in her voice, what Trickler was preaching in Gwaine's bar…Trouble was on its way.

Gwen continued. "He's not the preaching type, though…"

"Ruling over humans and being led by Morgana…" Arthur rubbed his jaw. "Has Morgana ever said anything about wanting vampires to over? Do you think she sent him to send a message?"

"No, never," Gwen said. She dropped her head in her hands. "Oh, God. What if leaving has sent her over the edge."

"They're bringing him back to HQ. I'm going to go and see what he has to say," Arthur said.

"I'll come with you." Arthur tried to argue but she stopped him. "If he refuses, I can make him talk," she said unyielding.

Merlin insisted on going too. They apologized to Hunith who understood. She packed them the remaining cookies and gave them each a kiss on the cheek. Before Arthur went out to the car, Hunith pulled him to the side.

"Take care of her, Arthur," she said.

He patted the hand she had on his arm. "I will."

The underground of the Authority wasn't just the super-secret council room, many other super-secret rooms, one being an interrogation room. When they came to it, Leon was guarding the door.

"He's not talking," Leon said and opened the door.

Trickler sat at the metal table, his hands cuffed to it. He sneered at the site of Arthur sitting down in the opposite seat.

"So, Trickler, I hear that you're friends with Morgana," Arthur said.

Trickler sucked his teeth and blew Arthur a kiss. "I know your sister."

Arthur clenched his jaw. "And what's this about vampires ruling over humans?"

Trickler leaned back, quiet.

Arthur leaned back too, and folded his arms over his chest. "Fine. Maybe you'll talk to an old friend of yours." The door opened and Gwen came in. Trickler's eyes bulged out of his head and he tried to scurry out of the chair, pulling his wrist against the cuffs trying to escape. Arthur wasn't expecting that reaction.

"_What is she doing here?!"_ Trickler screeched.

_Interesting, _Arthur thought. _Morgana_ _never said anything to her lackeys about Gwen leaving? _Arthur stood. "I'll give you some time alone."

Unlike police interrogation rooms, this one didn't have a two-way mirror. Instead, there were hidden cameras and thermal sensors that sent a live feed to the room next door. There, the interrogation can be observed with no worries that if a vampire manages to break free, there's no window to escape through.

Leon, Elyan, Percival, Gwaine, Lance, and Merlin were watching the feed when Arthur entered.

"They told me vampires can compel other vampires," Merlin said, eyes transfixed on the screen. They were all glued to it.

"Yes," Arthur confirmed. "It depends on the skill of the vampire doing the compelling and the age and experience of the vampire being compelled." A lot of vampires now, especially baby vamps who were abandoned, don't learn the proper art of compelling and how to hone their skills. It makes them extremely susceptible to it. But none of that seemed to matter to Gwen. Morgana would swear that Gwen could compel before she was turned. Just a bat of her eyelashes and a simple please would do. And when she was a child, she had the court wrapped around her finger.

"Have you ever tried just saying 'please'?" she once asked while still human, a teenager. "How do you ask those pretty little blood servants that you want to suck their blood? Or do they just throw themselves at you?" She made a grand gesture of flinging oneself and plopped into the chair.

He stared at her.

"No, really," she continued. "How do you ask them?"

His eyebrows knitted together. "I just say I want them." She frowned at him. "What? You want me to say 'May I please drink from you or something like that?'"

She shrugged. "It's a start."

He grandly bent down on one knee and held her hand. "Guinevere, may I please drink from you?" He gave her his cheesiest smile.

She pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms. "Maybe when I'm older."

The feed was silent as Gwen and Trickler just stared at each other.

"Trickler's not some untrained vamp. Do you think she can do it?" Leon asked. Some were harder to persuade than others, and Trickler sounded like quite the manipulator.

Arthur stared unblinking at the screen. "I know she can."

* * *

The American south was too hot for Arthur's liking. He stared at Gwen sitting next to him in the carriage, withdrawn and starring out the window. He had received a message from the President of the Authority of the United States stating that a vampire slave owner absolutely refused to release his slaves even though it's against the law for vampires to own slaves. Because the Authority of the UK was the founding government for vampire-kind, in complicated and extreme situations they're brought in to make things right. Uther sent Arthur and Gwen to deal with it, acknowledging Gwen's skill in compelling.

They stopped in front of a large plantation house, and Gwen lowered the veil attached to her hat. Arthur helped her out of the carriage, taking her gloved hand in his. She covered up as much as possible to avoid stares. He wanted to apologize to her.

"It's alright, my love," she said, gently rubbing a satin covered thumb on the back of his bare hand, feeling his stress.

Their escort was the vampire governor of Georgia. He hopped off the front of the carriage and led them to the porch steps. A portly middle aged vampire stepped out. His black hair slicked back with a shock white strip and handlebar mustache gave him a sinister look.

"Mr. Smith," the governor greeted.

Mr. Smith snickered. "Whatever you gon' say, I ain't doin' it." He rubbed his fat, sweaty neck with a handkerchief. "But if we gon' talk, let's do it outta this heat." He snickered again and invited them in.

"I'll stay out here," Gwen said not lifting her veil. Arthur gave her a final look before going in.

Mr. Smith barked at the servant to fetch some tea. He wiggled in the chair to get comfortable. "Now see here. This is _my_ land, n' _I_ own these slaves fair n' square."

"It's against the law, Mr.—"

Mr. Smith interrupted the governor by slamming his fist on the table. The maid waited for him to settle back before she put the tray of iced tea down. "They're _mine_. I can work 'em and feed on 'em as much as I like."

"It's against vampire law to own slaves," Arthur stated. He was doing his best not to lose the little patience he had.

Mr. Smith put on his worst British accent. "What are you going to do, report me to the Queen?" He switched back to his southern drawl. "This is _America_, n' she says _I_ can own slaves!"

Arthur stood. "And _I _am Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon, Vampire King of the United Kingdom. And _I_ say you free them."

Mr. Smith cowered. Even he knew of the main Authority's power. No one had told him they were coming. More sweat poured from his forehead and stubbornly fought back. _"No."_

Just then Arthur felt Gwen calling him. He left without a word. Nervous, Mr. Smith followed him, a bloated sweaty mess. The governor trailed behind them. Arthur followed the call to the back of the house. Gwen was kneeling in front of a child; her hat and gloves removed to reveal her skin tone. The child and those around them marveled at the woman who looked liked them, but dressed so richly.

"What the devil!" Mr. Smith shouted and was about to stomp over to them, but Arthur stopped him, holding him back with a vice-like grip.

The child Gwen was kneeling in front of was a little boy. He had a fresh gash across his cheek that would fester soon if not treated properly. Gwen extracted her fangs and bit her thumb. The workers around them backed away but didn't run. The child didn't move, not a tremble, but stood with wide-eyed anticipation. Gwen held his hand with her left and brought her bleeding thumb to his cheek. She ran it over the wound and it closed. Then she took out a handkerchief and wiped away the remaining blood from the boy's cheek and from her now healed thumb. "All better," she said softly running her thumb back over the smoothed skin. The boy's and flew to his cheek and he rubbed it. He turned to look at a woman behind him. She came up and hugged him. "Thank you," she said to Gwen and they backed away when Mr. Smith broke from Arthur's hold, or Arthur let him go.

"And who do you think you are? Some painted up—"

"She's my wife, Smith," Arthur said, his voice cutting through Mr. Smith.

Smith sputtered. "_Wife_. You married a ni—"

"Mr. Smith," Gwen said with authority, demanding his attention.

Mr. Smith whipped his head back around to Gwen and froze. She stared at him, her eyes cold and unblinking. Every bit of him told him to flee, but he couldn't.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Gwen said.

"What—?"

"Where should I begin?" she pondered out loud.

"You can begin by gettin' off my prop—"

Gwen sauntered up to him. "Do you believe you are better than humans, Mr. Smith?"

Mr. Smith took a step back, upset with her close proximity, but he couldn't look away. "'Course I do!"

Venom laced Gwen's voice. "Slavery is one of the vilest human crimes, Mr. Smith. We do not encourage human mistakes."

"No…?" Mr. Smith asked, tilting his head to the side like a fat bird.

Gwen tilted her head, too, mocking him. "And we do not mimic human mistakes."

"No?" he asked again, blinking.

She lifted her head back up. "No. We do not enslave humans."

"…"

"You're going to free _all_ of them, the field workers and household staff."

The last ounce of fight in Mr. Smith came out in a tiny "…but…"

Gwen covered the distance Mr. Smith made when he backed away. "You will free them. You will pay them. And you will house them. And when they are ready to go North, you will ensure them safe passage and property. You can afford it."

"I will," Mr. Smith nodded heavily.

"You will what, Mr. Smith?" Gwen asked, making sure he understood.

"I will free them, pay them, house them, give them safe passage, and give them property. They are free. I will draw up the papers."

"Do it now," she said with finality.

"Yes, ma'am." Mr. Smith turned away and went straight to the house to get to work.

Arthur went to Gwen; the newly freed workers kept their distance but looked on in awe at what they just witnessed. Gwen looked at Arthur wearily, and then felt blood trickle out her nostril, and brought her handkerchief to her nose.

They couldn't interfere with human crimes. Wars, slavery, the Holocaust, so many atrocities could've been ended with an easy push from a vampire. But it wasn't their duty. Humans had to right their own wrongs. And so did vampires.

* * *

Of all the things she's done, one of Gwen's biggest regrets is not stopping Trickler from killing a child when she had the chance. One night, she, Morgana, and her band of barbarians were on the prowl. They stumbled upon a father and son making their way home from a day out together. The little boy held a stuffed giraffe that was half his size under one arm and held his father's hand in the other. When they were spotted, someone said, "Dinner," and the group rushed forward. Gwen and Morgana stayed behind, watching.

Before the father could react, he was on the ground with three hungry baby vamps on top of him. He shouted at his son to run, and as the boy backed away, he bumped into Trickler.

"Ooh," Trickler grinned like the Cheshire cat, revealing his fangs. "Bite-sized. My favorite."

When Gwen saw Trickler pick up the child, she tried to make a move but Morgana stopped her. She wanted to rip her maker's arm off, but all she could do is watch as the mad vamp violently fed off the child hanging in his arms. Blood dripped on the stuffed giraffe dropped on the ground.

Despite the madness of each member in the group Morgana created, they all knew not to cross Gwen. Under Morgana's control, violence became second nature to her progeny, and sometimes Gwen didn't need to be told to attack.

"If Morgana knew you were here…" Trickler squeaked. "Working with the enemy!"

Gwen traced an invisible pattern with her finger on the table, still holding Trickler's gaze. "She hasn't told you? She released me."

"Oh. That would explain your absence, then." Trickler began to sweat.

"It's quite nice being free, not being forced to do what you're told," she said calmly. "But you and I both know I always did what I was told."

Trickler gulped.

"And now I've been told to get you to talk." She stopped tracing and started drumming her fingers, the vibration spreading through the table and the pattering of her nails unpleasant with his enhanced hearing.

"I don't know what you want to know," Trickler said hastily, not looking away from her hand.

"I think you do," Gwen said grimly and stood. She circled behind him until she sat on the table on his right side. She crossed her legs and leaned in. "What's Morgana planning, Trickler?"

He continued to look forward and clamped his mouth shut.

She patted his hand. "Come on, this will go much quicker if you say." She kept his eyes focused on him and watched him struggle to keep his attention straight ahead. _"Look at me,"_ she commanded.

His head snapped to her and she bent his fingers back, breaking them. Trickler's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and his mouth opened to scream to which Gwen quickly said, "Don't scream." His jaw locked open and the veins bulged in his neck, and his fangs extracted from the shock, but no sound came out. She let go of his fingers, and there were pops and cracks as they slowly reset and healed. When Trickler's jaw relaxed, he closed his mouth and breathed heavily through his nose.

"What is Morgana planning?" Gwen asked again.

Trickler's breathing slowed, and he sneered. "You _bitch!_"

"Wrong answer." She broke his fingers again and let him scream. Gwen reached in his mouth and snagged one of his fangs between her fingers and pulled. Trickler cry was garbled, choking as blood fell back down his throat, and he thrashed. Gwen looked at the tooth with disgust then dropped it on the table just out of reach of his reach.

Trickler clawed at it with his broken and bruised digits, unable to grasp it. Gwen watched him before sliding off the table and moving to his other side. This time, she gripped his cheeks with one hand, her nails digging into his skin. "Last chance, Trickler."

His lips puckered trying to form words. She moved her hand to grip his neck tightly, but with enough slack to let him speak.

"She-she's gonna kill 'im. She's gonna kill _him_ and _anyone_ who stands in her w-way," Trickler said, gasping.

Gwen squeezed his throat to make him continue. He wheezed. "A-a-nd m-make sure vamps r-rule again…take b-back the land. H-humans will bow d-down."

"What is she going to do next? When is she coming for Arthur?" Gwen stressed.

"I-I-I don't know," he said honestly, gulping for air. "P-Please let me go. I'll do _a-anything_ you want," he pleaded.

She eyed the other fang, out of place without its partner. She pulled that one out, too, without a second thought. She'd pull out all of his teeth if she could, for every child that saw his crude smile before being killed. She'd pull out every tooth that touched a child's flesh. "There is one thing you will do," she said, and whispered in his ear.

* * *

Elyan's been on the receiving end of Gwen's wrath on many occasions. The most he'd receive is a tongue lashing and a slap on the head, but followed by a sisterly hug. Percival and Leon witnessed many of these moments, secretly fearing that because she saw them as a brothers, she'd do the same to them if they was ever out of line. The silent treatment, scolding, a glare; those were once Gwen's methods of punishment, of torture. Tough sisterly love.

Gwaine thought the most aggressive Gwen got was the time she slammed him into the table when they first met. He'd tease her and provoke her, and all she would do is laugh him off. Except for the time when he laid on the end of her bed, bothering her while she was reading. She kicked him off while keeping her eye on the page. When he sat up from the floor, peeking at her over the end of the bed, she peered over the top of her book, a mischievous glint in her eyes. He smiled back.

Lance couldn't believe what he was seeing. Gentle feeding Gwen, the girl he would sneak into museums and the Eiffel Tower with after closing, the girl he secretly fell in love with. He would have never suspected...

Arthur watched as Gwen backed away from Trickler, take both his fangs in her hand and leave the room. When she pulled the first one out, Leon asked him if they should stop it. Arthur said no. Gwen was always verbally persuasive. This was new, and he couldn't help but keep watching, gaining insight into how much she's changed.

Gwen came through the door and dropped Trickler's fangs into the trash. They were all silent, unsure of what to say. "You can let him go," she said, tired. She held her left hand, untainted by Trickler's blood, against her nose, trying to stop the nose bleed.

Merlin, the only one without preconceived notions of Gwen, stepped forward handing her tissues. He lowered her in a chair, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Maybe we should call it a day."

The ride back to Arthur penthouse was silent. He wanted to go back to Avalon, where things were progressing nicely, but it was too late and the holiday was cut short. When they got home Gwen said, "Are you going to say anything?"

"What the hell was that?" was all Arthur could muster.

"Habit." She tried to sound unconcerned, and maybe would've gotten away with it if it wasn't for the fact that she couldn't look at him.

Arthur processed that one word. "A habit," he said. "Torturing is a _habit_?" He watched her pick at the bloody sleeve, not disturbed by it, unlike the clothing she threw away that only smelled of blood though none was on it. "You wanted him dead."

"Trickler was a monster," she said quietly.

_Was?_ Arthur's brow furrowed. "Guinevere, what did you whisper in his ear?"

* * *

Morgana's hideout was a mess. She trashed the place after Gwen left, and Morgause just watched her let out let out her frustration. No one was even going to try and clean because Morgana would just ransack the place again. Morgana's held herself in her messy fortress for a week, plotting, shouting, and crying in Gwen's room, and no one would say a word.

There was a knock on the door and Morgause kicked junk out of the way to open it. Trickler was on the other side, and she and moved aside to let him in.

Morgana looked at him sourly. "And where have you been?"

_I want you to send a message to Morgana from me._

Trickler seemed unfazed by the mess. He pulled out a crudely carved stake. Morgause stiffened and Morgana anticipated his next move.

"Gwen says Merry Christmas," Trickler said and ran the stake through his heart.

* * *

She refused to say anymore. Arthur pleaded with her to tell her what Morgana's made her do over the years, but Gwen locked herself in the guestroom for the rest of the night. She heard Arthur swear and retreat to his room.

Gwen hated Arthur's penthouse. The bachelor pad was monochromatic and missed that warmth that made a home a _home. _They filled the vast space of Avalon better with just the two of them, than Arthur did alone in his flat. The morning after the Trickler situation, she wasn't surprised when she opened the expensive stainless steel fridge to find it sparse. Eggs, beer, blood, and condiments. Sure they've been at Avalon and Hunith's the last few days, but she expected a bit more to be left in the fridge. The state of the freezer was just as sad. She found half a loaf of bread in the drawer and settled on making bland French toast.

Arthur entered wiping the sleep off his face. "And the balance of nature has been restored," he smiled tiredly, referring to her being up before him.

"I'm sorry about last night," she said placing the French toast on the table. "It's just that…"

"You're not ready," he finished, understanding. He made a face when he bit into the toast. "Isn't there supposed to be cinnamon in this?"

She was glad he understood. "Yeah. And vanilla. We need to go shopping. For food and for clothes."

They got the groceries first. Arthur pushed the cart while Gwen loaded it with things he never thought to buy before. She was also looking out for sales. He told her money was no object, but she insisted on saving. They bought all the necessities except for bread, which they got fresh from Seward's, a vampire bakery. When the owner and her son saw Arthur and Gwen, they smiled brightly.

"Well, look who walked in," Gelda, the baker said. Her son, Tyr, was already putting together their signature rolls and loafs they've made for almost two centuries.

"It's been so long," Tyr said, bumbling and blushing when he saw Gwen. "Welcome home."

It was the day after Christmas and people were already putting their gift cards to good use. Arthur sighed in relief when he sat on the bench. He didn't realize how exhausting shopping for an entirely new wardrobe would be. He kind of felt awkward sitting outside the lingerie store while Gwen went inside. If things were different, he'd be in there with her, but now, shopping for intimates with someone you were no longer intimate with didn't seem appropriate. Of all stores the bench needed to be placed, though.

A woman walked out of the store checking her phone and sat next to him on the bench. When she put it down, she noticed him. Arthur had to admit that she was pretty. She tried making small talk, which he responded to politely. Her name was Sophia; that's all he got out of the conversation. Not really paying attention, he didn't notice that she had scooted closer to him.

Gwen was standing in line when she looked out the store's window and saw a pretty blonde scoot closer to Arthur on the bench. The woman in line behind her watch Gwen with interest, impressed that she could move when the line moved while focusing her attention elsewhere.

Something was nagging her in the back of the brain. She didn't want to say it was jealousy, but it was. Arthur told her he searched for her for the eighty years, but did he ever…stray? Find relief in someone else's arms? She finally looked away when she reached the register. The transaction was a bit long due to her large purchase, but when it was done she walked briskly out the door, slowing down when she exited with feign calm.

"I'll carry that for you," Arthur offered reaching for the bag.

Gwen held it determinedly. "I'm not making you carry around a bag full of underwear," she said and gave a hard stare at the blonde, making the girl uncomfortable.

"I need to go," Sophia said quickly. "Uh, nice meeting you."

They watched her retreating form and Arthur turned back to Gwen. "What was that about?"

"What was what about?" She asked innocently.

Arthur smirked. "If looks could kill…"

She stopped pretending and said what was bothering her. "Where you with anyone during…"

Before Arthur could answer, a teenager bumped into Gwen. "Sorry!" he apologized while helping her regain her balance. They looked at each other and stilled. "Gwen!" he exclaimed.

Before she could respond, she heard Arthur next to her. "Mordred?"

* * *

**A/N: **Mordred! Anyone see that coming? Because I didn't. I added him at the last minute when an interesting thought popped into my head that will be revealed in the next chapter. The next chapter's a big one (plot-wise and maybe in length, too.) I haven't written it yet, but I'm excited. I hope you are, too :D

**THANKS ALWAYS **for reading and reviewing!


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